Dragonage: Godstorm
by OmeganQueen
Summary: A storm gathers in the distance, brought on by the looming threat of the Dark One and his undead armies. With her father gone and Thedas in turmoil, Riven has chosen to walk the path as Scion of Andraste. The Mage-Templar war may be seen as the End Times, but she knew better. This was just the beginning of something far worse. ( On hold )
1. Amata: Prologue

**This book is the continuation of the fic "Dragonage: The Knight of Heide". If you lack context, be sure to read on the first part before proceeding.**

 **Usual disclaimer: I don't own anything of Dragonage Inquisition, except for my OC's.  
With that mentioned, let the adventure continue. POV's gonna be split between two main characters, their introductions will be as follows. **

**}!{**

The winds howled like a thousand souls in torment, bringing with it the chilling bite of winter.

I pushed on in spite of the heavy snowfall that had blocked the path leading into the Ivory King's Throneroom, still somewhat confused as to what awoke me from my century-long slumber. Something had breached the gates of Eleum Loyce, come to claim or unleash the Old Chaos upon the world! That is the only explanation. Why else would the magic of the city compel me to action?

I had awoken in the same state I had begun my long sleep, in my full battle regalia and with my sword still in my grasp. The ice had melted off my armor, and I had stepped off the pedestal from where I stood back to level ground. My fellow knights did the same, for they too were summoned by the old magic of Eleum Loyce.

"Lady Cerwynn!" Sir Athis saluted stiffly, "Our duty calls?"

I nodded, picking up my helm and brushing it free from the encrusted frost. "Come, let us attend to the matter quickly."

Presently, I and my fellow knights arrived at the Grand Cathedral in due time. We tried our best to ignore the state of decay that had befallen our kingdom, but failed. The pangs of sorrow were keenly felt as we surveyed the frozen forms of the citizens of Eleum Loyce who were caught in the sudden blast of magic that the sages have unleashed to contain the Old Chaos even before our beloved King sacrificed himself to keep it within the heart of the city.

"Step lively now!" I commanded, drawing my blade free from my back. Something was amiss, I knew it. "Ready yourselves! We are not alone!"

The Grand Cathedral was as we had left it, frozen and devoid of all life- save for the Oracle herself. As always, she remained silent in her vigil. Calling upon us in our sleep was enough evidence she had foreseen what would soon befall Eleum Loyce.

The gates into the Cathedral thundered as something powerful struck it from the other side.

"Stand by me!" I cried, dropping my visor as the second strike shattered the frozen barricade. My knights, only five strong but all powerful warriors in their own right, did the same as I and drew their weapons. When the gates were flung open, we called upon the old magicks of Eleum Loyce and prepared to unleash the powers of Winter upon the intruder.

There was a pause, as we regarded the stranger who breached the sanctity of Eleum Loyce. He stood alone, armed with a single black-bladed axe that bore the stench of evil upon it. The armor was black as pure obsidian, decorated with the pelts of great beasts to keep his body warm from the cold winds outside. The make of his helm was unmistakable. He was of the lost kingdom of Heide. How had he even crossed the border without a single scratch upon him from the guardians?

"Who dares tread through the Ivory King's soil?" I addressed the intruder. "State your business or face the wrath of Eleum Loyce!"

"I've come to take the Old Chaos for my master." The unknown knight declared, offering no further explanations. "Stand aside, or be cut down like the rest."

"No!" I replied, "We shall give you this one chance to turn back!"

"So be it." He sighed, summoning a powerful fireball out of nowhere and striking Sir Athis upon his shield!

My comrade's buckler shatters on impact, but Sir Athis recovered from the attack quickly. "For Eleum Loyce!" I cried, leading the charge against the insolent Heideian. We soon found out that the stranger was more than we could handle. He was quick, a lot more than we expected. With two casual swings, he cut down two of ours even before we could deal a blow of our own! The three of us left put up a front for a while, but were quickly subdued by the far more powerful stranger. He does not stop for us, however, and walks past our bleeding bodies.

The pit in the middle of the Throneroom led into the heart of Eleum Loyce, the same place where our King had gone centuries before to battle the Old Chaos on its own turf- never to return. He had given us a specific duty, to keep watch over the city lest the Old Chaos escape and his sacrifice mean little. Seeing the stranger make a mockery of our vows in this manner angered me to no end, and I pursued him as he prepared to leap into the pit.

"NO!"

I grabbed him from behind in an attempt to seal him with me in a pillar of ice, but was unable to.

The man burned hotter than the fires of hell, and I recoiled as he pushed me aside. Unfazed by my poor attempt, the stranger did what he came for and leaped into the pit, leaving me and my surviving knights to watch on in astonishment.

Sir Athis grasped at the wound in his side, "Leave him be...the Old Chaos will devour him. If even His Highness had a problem with it, how much less for an interloper like him?"

"Are you suggesting we stand by and do nothing? No, I shall see this one through the end!" I declared, "Stay if you need to, but I have a duty to uphold. The stranger shall not unleash the Old Chaos upon this world."

"Lady Cerwynn!"

I ignored my comrades as I made a blind jump down the pit, bracing myself for whatever lay beyond the steam clouds wafting free from the fiery maw of the earth. I could feel the rise in temperature from the dizzying height I leaped from, I could taste the acridity of sulphur in the air. When I arrived at the heart of Eleum Loyce, I saw the stranger again.

This time, he stood before the Ivory King himself! His Majesty had not changed a bit since he left, except for the charred state of his royal armor. The stranger stood amongst the bodies of slain Eleum Loyce Knights, who had gone faithfully unto the maw with our King to deal with the Old Chaos. Fires burned all around, and a sea of flame boiled beneath the small island we found ourselves stranded upon.

A brief duel of fates, but even our King fell before the stranger.

The axe buried itself upon his chest, tearing his wondrous soul free from its prison. I watched helplessly as the stranger devoured my King's essence and moved to address the hungry fires burning before him. The air had grown heavy, and I found myself weakened to the point that I could barely stand on my own two feet. I collapsed, sweat pouring in rivers as I looked on. He ignores me as stretched forth his hands over the river of flame, calling on the Old Chaos to come for him.

It did, in all its fury.

The stranger, however, held an unseen power greater even than the primal fire of the Old Chaos. He breathed in the flames, tearing the Old Chaos from its bed and wrestling its control away! The fires of the sea soon died, leaving a charred and heated husk from where it came. The stranger stepped away once the deed was done and walked towards the portal that quickly opened in the middle of the island. With one word, the magicks of that thing spirited him away from this plane of existence and out into the unknown- taking the Old Chaos with him!

"My King!" I gasped, feeling the air grow thin with each passing second. I had noticed my liege move in spite of his wound, "You yet live!"

"He had taken but only a splinter of me..." The Ivory King rasped, "I worry more that he has taken with him...the Old Chaos! He must not have it! The Dark One, whom he serves...You, o Lady Cerwynn...you must follow him..."

"What is your bidding, my lord?" I asked.

"Take this." My liege handed me his greatsword, filled with the essence of his own vessel that kept him from succumbing to Chaos. "Return...or slay the Old Chaos upon the thief...Save the realms...Until then, Eleum Loyce shall remain frozen in time."

"It will be done, I swear it!"

My King's body enwreathed itself in ice, a mirrored fate of our kingdom as Eleum Loyce grew ever colder, its citizens remaining trapped in a frozen limbo. My King was wise in doing so, for without a proper end our Kingdom will be reduced to a rotting shell of its former self- likened unto the fate of Drangleic and all the others. Eleum Loyce will endure, Eleum Loyce will remain pure...

Eleum Loyce, is eternal.

I pushed the Kingsblade upon the island floor, using the ancient power within it to force open the fabric of space and time. With the portal open, I journeyed forth into the unknown, sniffing out the trail left behind by the Knight of Heide.

 **}!{**

 **Credits go to Lord Pyrus, who provided the idea and concept of Amata Cerwyn.**


	2. Riven: Setting Out

**}!{**

The log emitted a loud _splat_ as the axehead splits it in two.

I wiped the sweat from my brow and stood back to survey my work. The wood for the fire had been cut, enough to last for weeks to come. Today's chores were done, now I'm just whiling away my time until sundown. I flexed my arms to get rid of the dull ache setting about between my elbows and shoulders as I've been taught and stretched them out as far as I could reach.

Lately I found that I could not keep my mind off of that same old issue, no matter how deep I've sunk my head into training, working, and otherwise driving myself to breaking point. Distractions, the lot of them, to help me let the anger out lest I let loose on an innocent.

Papa did not leave me, I would tell myself that every day. He was taken from me by the enemy, and I could not do anything about it.

I was a child.

 _Splat._

I was weak.

 _Splat._

I was afraid.

The anger I felt was never for him. It was for myself. How many times did he have to come to save my ass from some lowborn thug, or some other dangerous foe? I can count the number of times I saved myself on my fingers, but not with him. He was always there when I needed him, but when the moment came when he needed me most…

"You failed him!" I uttered, bringing the axe down hard against the tree until the frayed trunk split under the strike. With a loud groan, the tree fell straight and true, the snapping of branches sounding clear through the still morning air until it came to rest upon the dried grass below. The earth shuddered on impact, and the rampage continued.

I didn't stop, not even after my lungs burned for air and my muscles screamed for respite. It was only after I realized I had chopped down the whole treeline did I cease in the senseless 'exercise'.

I am no sniveling cub, not anymore.

I sniffed up the long strand of snot sliding free from my nostril and wiped the sweat off my upper lip.

My name is Riven, daughter of the Knight of Heide. Whole armies trembled when Langerd the Grim walked the fields of battle, but the world will learn to fear my name. I am the Scion of Andraste, and soon the Dark One will regret ever taking my father from me!

But before that, I must ready myself. Heroes are everywhere, I must be better than them if I even hope to have a chance against the coming storm.

I stuck the woodcutter's axe upon the chopping block and threw in the towel for the day. I headed for the little cottage upon the hill overlooking Neverwinter Glade, one of the few places you can find in Thedas that remained untouched by the Mage-Templar war. Ferelden had recovered from the Blight that nearly destroyed it fifteen years ago, even prospered in spite of the calamities brought on by the war, thanks to the wise rule of King Alistair and Queen Anora.

The other kingdoms could learn a thing or two from them, if they did they would fare far better than they did now.

The Free Marches were as we had left it, barely weathering the battles fought upon its shores and threatening to collapse entirely. They got the worst of it, poor sods. The majority of the Templar Order was based there, due in no small part to Knight-Commander Meredith's paranoia. Ironically, it served to be the kingdom's undoing. When Uncle Garret left Kirkwall for good, the Free Marches were left without a Champion to lead it in its darkest hour, and the descent into madness began from there.

Some say that the Fade bled into Kirkwall, unleashing all manner of horrific demonic entities that words cannot even begin to describe. Some say the Orlesians blockaded and quarantined the whole city-state for fear of allowing the abominations to taint its neighbors with their influence.

All of that was mere speculation, says Aunt Izzie.

I, on the other hand, thought what my father would've thought and simply did not care. For all we know, Orlais may have taken advantage of the confusion and seized the territories for itself, using the rumors to its advantage to keep unwanted visitors from investigating for themselves.

After that mess in the city involving the Knight-Commander, Uncle Garret and Aunt Izzie decided to travel back to Ferelden to escape the ensuing chaos. I went with them after my father's disappearance, a gesture Aunt Izzie happily welcomed, and stayed with the couple up to my twentieth birthday.

Today, I decided to tell them what I've been thinking for the past month. I wanted to leave, with their blessing, and journey out into the world to search for my father.

The sweet scent of grilled nugs could be sniffed out from a mile away, and my stomach growled at the aromatic air wafting from the windows of the kitchen. Uncle Garret was cooking today, and what a wonderful thing to come home to indeed! I'll never tell her myself, but Aunt Izzie is a terrible cook compared to her husband. Out of love, I would have to stomach the junk she'd put out on the plate with a smile- just barely. It would seem Uncle Garret knew this to be true and saved me the torture of going through it all year.

* * *

As I entered the kitchen, a quizzical look found itself upon my face as I found the place empty. The finished produce was on the wooden serving platter, but no Uncle Garret. Where was he?

"Uncle Garret?" I called, "I see the food's ready. May I set the table?"

Loud noises came from the bedroom upstairs. Concerned, I went up to investigate. I didn't have to wait long to discover, to my embarassment, what those noises were all about.

The bedroom doorknob was locked, but the door itself wasn't closed. "What are the odds?" I muttered to myself. Curiosity got the better of me, and like I've done so many times before, I peeked.

Aunt Izzie was on top of him, in all her naked splendor, riding Uncle Garret with gentle but practiced motions.

The bed was situated in an angle that allowed me to see everything. A chill set the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end, but a dizzying heat that seared me from head to thighs kept my eyes heavily fixated on the beautiful scene before me.

Father never told me about these things a man and a woman could do together, so I was left to discover it myself. Perhaps he was too embarassed to talk about it?

I heard Uncle Garret moan with delight, watched his hands reached out to cup her ample bosoms. My eyes traced the muscular form of his arms as he held Aunt Izzie atop of him, then to the suple curves of the woman as she rocked back and forth on the man's loins. I found myself marvelling at how well those two differences mixed together.

Aunt Izzie leaned back on her hands and savagely pounded herself on him, all the while wearing that amused grin on her face. "She's watching us again, Hawke."

I felt my cheeks burn as I squeaked, "I'm sorry!" Embarassed beyond words, I fled down the flight of stairs and busied myself in the kitchen. _Again?_ So she knew all along what I've been up to?

 _Of course she would know!_ I berated myself for being a fool for ever getting into mischief. _I was better than that!_

My hands trembled with excitement in spite of myself as I carried the plates from the cupboard down to the table. I had to admit, I kind of liked it no matter how obscene it seemed to be.

I swallowed the lump in the back of my mouth and cleared my throat. Aunt Izzie and Uncle Garret love each other very much, it was none of my business snooping in on their…'expressions'. End of story.

I only hope Aunt Izzie won't bring it up later during our meal.

The blush on my cheeks would not disappear even after an hour had passed. When the couple came back downstairs, I refused to look up at them and kept my head bowed.

"What's the matter, little kitten?" Aunt Izzie said teasingly as she rubbed my shoulders, "Why so shy? Didn't you like what you saw?"

"Aunt Izzie!" I cried, the words tripping over each other. "I-I wasn't trying to…I was…" I gave up halfway and buried my face in my hands, "Oh Maker, I'm such an idiot!"

Uncle Garret saved me from further embarassment and waved his wife off, although that amused smirk was just barely hidden beneath his beard. "Leave her be, Isabela. Let this be a lesson on your curiosity, young lady. Doors are locked on occasion for a reason."

"Yes, Uncle Garret." Obviously, Aunt Izzie set me up on that. That door was left ajar on purpose.

The incident was soon put behind us, and our little family resumed its mirthful conversations over lunch as we've always done. Most of the stories exchanged were reflections of the past, or adventures the two had gone together in their time in the Free Marches. The ones I had were not the kind fit to be repeated, so they never asked me to share anything all this time.

That was fine, I didn't want to spoil the merry atmosphere of this humble home.

Aunt Izzie used to be a pirate and lived a life of adventure. Kirkwall changed her, I knew that to be so. She never complained about the simple life she shared now with Uncle Garret. He was no different, being the Champion of Kirkwall and all. The life he made here in Ferelden for his family, with Grandmother Leandra and Aunt Bethany, was far better than the one back in the City of Chains.

On my end, however, I was the direct opposite.

I longed to leave the safety of this place. The restlessness ate at me, and that was what drove me to say what I did that day.

"Aunt Izzie, Uncle Garret?" I spoke up after I had taken the dishes out of the table to be washed.

"Yeah, sweet thing?" Aunt Izzie put down her book. Uncle Garret leaned back on his chair to listen.

I took a deep breath before letting my thoughts be known, "I want to leave home. I want to find out what happened to Papa, and what my destiny as Scion of Andraste means. Days are growing darker for the people out there, I want to do my part in bringing a little bit of light to the world."

Aunt Izzie smiled and looked back at her husband, "Ah, I was wondering when you'd say that, kitten."

"It's time, then?" Uncle Garret rose from his seat slowly and stretched himself.

I was greatly relieved that I was received without contradictions, but kept silent as I allowed my foster parents to say their part. Uncle Garret motioned for me to accompany him to the shed out back, and I followed with Aunt Izzie not too far behind.

Setting aside the tools and farming equipment, Uncle Garret threw aside a dusty threadbare cloth that covered the cellar he had dug years ago. The rusted old lock was broken with a hammer, and we entered the cellar to retrieve the items stored within.

When the house was built, I was instructed not to venture inside the cellar for any reason. Obedient as I was, I adhered to Uncle Garret's instruction and kept clear. Soon, the place became a distant memory.

Aunt Izzie struck a match and lit the old lantern, shedding light upon the dark cellar.

"Here we are!" Uncle Garret exclaimed, picking up a wooden chest and laying it down upon the cobblestone floor. "Open it, Riven. It's yours now."

 _What could it be?_ I wondered.

Unclasping the copper latch, I threw the top off and gasped in astonishment at what I saw within. "But that…that's father's sword!" I reached in for the weapon eagerly, not even feeling the sting of the cuts it gave my fingers as I pulled it free from its confines. The geisteel shone brilliantly even from the dim flickers of light the lantern shed upon it.

Many a man or beast died to this blade. Father's sword had seen demons to oblivion and slaughtered whole armies throughout its lifetime. Now, after years of inactivity, it shall have its fill with the blood of the wicked.

"How did you…"

"It's changed hands since it was lost that day Langerd was taken, but Leliana managed to procure it when you reached your sixteenth birthday." Aunt Izzie told me.

I was not ungrateful, but I had to know. "But why did you wait so long to give it to me?" This weapon may be the only thing left of my father. To me, it made little sense to keep it down here when it would've had better use in my possession.

Aunt Izzie scratched her temple, "Well…it was a stupid assumption on our part, kitten. When we left that life behind in Kirkwall, we sort of left out on how important this sword was to you. So…here it stayed until now." Her hand caressed my cheek, "We see our error on that bit, and I hope you can forgive us for that."

"It's alright." I said. The error was not too large a mistake to not deserve forgiveness. The weapon was in my hands, that was all that matters.

"So, child…" Uncle Garret drew near, "…are you sure you want to do this?"

"I am." I replied, "Thank you so much for this gift."

"Oh, I think I'm going to cry now." Aunt Izzie fanned herself, laying aside the lantern to wrap me up in her embrace. "Come here, child!"

"I love you guys." I whispered as Uncle Garret joined up.

My foster parents packed up the necessities and saddled me up with the best horse they had in the stables. With a few more tearful goodbyes from Aunt Izzie, I took to the road in the direction of where it all began.

Kirkwall.

I will find the place where I lost my father, and from there I will try to make sense of what happened. He's not dead, you can't kill what's already dead- if that makes any damn sense at all.

The Destroyer claimed him, so there's no doubt I will see him again. But what if he was twisted into serving the Dark One? The thought of it turns my stomach. I set aside these daunting assumptions for later and focused on getting to my destination first.

 **}!{**


	3. Amata: To Protect and Serve

**}!{**

The portal spewed me out from the void and sent me tumbling down painfully across a pile of jagged rocks. I came to rest at the foot of a large statue that acted as an archway of sorts across a narrow bridge that extended over a wide chasm. The construct did not weather the elements well, and it seemed to be as unstable as the bridge itself.

"A wonder it did not crumble altogether." I muttered as I brushed off the dust from my armor.

This was no longer my world. That much was obvious.

I tried my best not to let the whirlpool of emotions swallow me up and focused on the task at hand. What did the Knight of Heide want with the Old Chaos that he would go through all that trouble to steal it, if not to serve a more malevolent purpose?

I looked down at the Kingsblade in my hands and saw the Iceborn Gryphon carved into the hilt, the sight of which renewed my conviction to the cause.

"Hold on, my liege." I whispered, "I shall sever the hold the Old Chaos has on Eleum Loyce. I will save the realm…this I vow." With that said, I fastened the greatsword onto my back and crossed the treacheous divide.

As I wandered about the countryside of this strange new world, it dawned on me that I hadn't a clue how to begin my search. It was a blind plunge into the abyss for me, never a direct route to where my quarry journeyed. But surely there was a reason for my being here?

Suddenly, a bright beam of light shot out from the sky and struck the ground close to me, bearing with it an otherwordly passenger.

My hand quickly reached for the Kingsblade, and I entered a combat stance to prepare myself for the worst. "Come forth, whoever goes!"

" _ **Peace, Knight of Eleum Loyce!"**_ The stranger called. The brilliance dissapated, revealing a tall and elegant woman in shimmering white armor. She carried with her a spear affixed with the carved head of a screaming eagle, but she does not bear it in a hostile manner so I calmed myself. _**"I mean you no harm."**_

"You know of me?" I asked suspiciously.

" _ **I know many things, including that of your world."**_ She replied, _**"I am Andraste, Prophetess of Thedas and Bride of the Maker. I have awaited long for someone like you to cross the planes of existence. My wait ends…"**_

"You expected me? What is the meaning of this?"

" _ **You seek a man who serves the Darkness, do you not?"**_ Andraste inquired, _**"But you do not know the way. I can give you guidance, that you may find what you seek."**_

My needs have been met. I might be grateful, but I must know why she would help me. "And why should I trust you?"

" _ **Because I too seek to undo the mistakes of the past. The man you pursue once served under my banner, but Darkness has claimed him. Whether or not he is open to redemption remains to be seen, but his path to ruin must be stopped…Take up your sword, Knight of Eleum Loyce, and journey to the East…where the children of Man sow the fields with the blood of their wars..."**_ Her hand gestured to the mountains beyond, _**"Seek the one of my blood and strike out this evil before it takes root. Oh, and take this. It will help you on your quest…"**_

Andraste handed me a curious-looking bottle of bright orange fluid. My eyes widened as I recognized it to be a bottle of estus! That would be useful in any encounter. With the gift, all thoughts of suspicion towards my benefactor evaporated.

" _ **Farewell…I shall pray for your safety…"**_

The Prophetess disappeared in the same manner she revealed herself, leaving me to ponder heavily on her words. She has offered aid, I would be a fool to turn it down. Help comes in short supply, so I have to make do with what I've got.

She showed me the direction I should take, I followed it down to the letter. East took me through the narrow pass in between two large mountains, upon which a heavy snowstorm had taken root and never seemed to show signs of leaving any time soon. I was used to the chilling bite of the winds of Eleum Loyce, and this was one mattered too little for me to take notice. "Lovely weather." The only thing I had to worry about was crossing into some beast's lair or the occasional landslide. The winds howled as the beat upon the overhanging boulders, threatening to throw themselves atop of me should I choose to tarry in that inhospitable place.

I squeezed myself through the narrow crags and pulled up across treacherous climbs, then I caught sight of the edge of the pass that spilled into the other side of the two mountains. I was close, but only chose to celebrate this little victory only after I had gotten safely across.

A few steps and half a day later, I was out of the pass and into the greenfield meadows beyond.

Having grown accustomed to the desolate winter wastes of Eleum Loyce, I had almost forgotten what greenery looked like. A welcome surprise, if anything, and I felt a smile lift the corners of my lips.

"What is this place?" I thought out loud. "A world untouched by the horrors of decay?" I hoped whatever the Darkness was up to it wouldn't involve this world. Such beauty must be preserved. Seeing something as simple as a glade gave me another reason to spur myself on harder to accomplish my mission. A lot weighed on my success, the knowledge of which burdens me so, but I am determined to persevere nonetheless.

 _What did the Prophetess mean by 'search the one of her blood'?_ The questions multiply with each time I address them. _And what did she mean with that part about the Knight of Heide once serving her?_ A traitor, a turncoat, he pledged himself to the Dark One. That was proof enough that his life was forfeit.

I was still lost in thought when I walked in on someone else's battle. A stray arrow struck me on the left and bounced harmlessly off the pauldron, and I instantly went into a defensive stance. My hand reached for the Kingsblade and I dropped my visor as I searched the trees for the origin of the shot. I was on the outskirts of a dense forest where a river ran through the divide separating the treeline. Among the waters lay the bodies of the slain, two sides fought for the scrap of territory without one ever managing to shift the balance of power in the place, and I was caught in the middle.

Horsemen plowed through the trees with their lances ready to impale, moving to trample the pikemen who stood on the other side of the river. The long, steel-tipped spears leaned out like towering spires, promising a bloody end to all who would dare to come against them.

Archers hidden in the forest let loose another barrage of arrows against the pikemen, tearing down a good number of them that weakened the ranks for the horsemen to better come against. Their mounts broke the line with a horrific crash, sending men tumbling aside as hooves trampled and kicked. Warcries thundered across the forest, then were followed by the song of steel against steel.

This was not my battle, but I was forced to make a choice as I soon became a target.

Those who moved against me bore the standard of a trinity of blazing phoenixes, of which encircled a shattered ring that represented something of great import. Their men wore armor with yellow borders, and had a great number of mages among them. I couldn't let them strike at me without retaliation, so I struck down the soldier who drew on me and therefore committed myself to the battle. Seeing me take a stand, his fellows called on their sorcerers and they let loose a hail of spells and hexes upon me.

Astonishingly, the spells were elementary, crude and simplistic. I bore the blows with little effort, confused beyond words that these were the mages I faced. I can even go as far as to say that all of it was too comical to call sorcery.

"Is that all you can offer me?" I taunted, feeling the chill of winter's grasp as my hand called on the old powers of Eleum Loyce. Even as I stood upon the soil of another world, my heart remains rooted upon my motherland. Eleum Loyce hears my call, and at my word the spears of frost cut down my enemies like a scythe through wheat.

The opposition, who bore the standard of a blazing red sun overshadowing a maple tree, watched me with awe as I easily stemmed the tide threatening to wash them away. Their commander, a grizzled old man with an unkempt beard, grinned at the sight of me and rallied his beleaguered forces around him. Together, we pressed hard against our mutual foe and pushed them back into the forest.

The archers hidden from sight had ceased in their volleys, and all but disappeared by the time their cavalry had retreated.

But the enemy were a crafty lot. When we entered the forest to continue the pursuit, the traps were sprung. Whole groups of men and women erupted in flames as the jars of highly explosive gases were tossed into them, killing off three-fourths of my new allies in seconds before we could even get a chance at fighting back!

"Damn! They got the lieutenant!" One of the soldiers cried as he dropped the corpse of his commander, still fresh from the fire when he attempted to drag him to safety.

"Rally to me, all of you!" I said to them, "Your lives depend on it!"

"Aye, milady!" The highest ranking man replied, "Shields up, lads! Get to around her, quickly now! Don't let the archers get a bead on ya!"

I conjured a Soul Shower to bombard the place where I thought the enemy had gone. In truth, I had no idea where they were, but I had to do something in the spur of the moment. By chance, I managed to actually hit something, and so I concentrated my attacks on that point. In quick response, the men pointed their pikes in the same direction and began a swift march forward.

Arrows slapped noisily against metal shields, few of which managed to penetrate the defense line and wound the brave men of this place. The invaders were leading us in, that was for certain, but my intervention was a bit of a surprise that would work in these soldiers' favor.

"Any more bright ideas, milady?" The officer asked.

"I can think of one, if they bothered to show." I replied.

Soon, we cleared the brush, revealing a large contingent of troops bearing a mixed but well spread out line of assorted specialties. Axemen, swordsmen, archers and mages...all ready to rip and tear at the word of their commander. They outnumbered us ten to one. Death was certain.

"Shit." The officer echoed the sentiment. "Well, it was nice knowing you, however brief our meeting was."

There was no going back now. I looked back at the faces of all the men and women I had entertwined my fate with. They were strangers, and so was I. But I wasn't about to let them die, I was determined to let them see another day. I had a duty to fulfill my vow to my King to vanquish the Knight of Heide, but I also had a vow to protect the righteous...

"No." I said to him, "I forbid you all to die this day."

I still had a few tricks up my sleeve. With that said, I summoned the most powerful spell I had in mind and transformed myself into an Ice Golem.

 **}!{**


	4. Riven: The Hinterlands

**}!{**

"I cannot embrace the touch that you give, I cannot find solace in your words, I cannot deliver you your love or caress your soul..." I hummed the words from that old song Papa sang in the tavern all those years ago. I remembered it used to bring tears to my eyes everytime I would hear it.

Now, I can only look at the passing days and feel wistful at the memory of it.

He was always so grim, people would say, such an insufferable prick to deal with. Yet with me, they were always happy times. I'd dare to even say that I saw him smile on several occasions. Papa wasn't a bad man, he just had bad luck. The latest streak of which took him away from me and set off a spark that ignited the fires of the Mage Rebellion. I was off of it during the first few hours, but it must've been a sight to see with father cutting a bloody swath through the Templars in the Gallows just to wrest me from the arms of my captors. I often wondered if there was anything in the whole world that can stop my dear Papa if his little Riven was ever in trouble.

Apparently, an evil deity can.

Now that I think about it, I wondered what chance I have at accomplishing my quest of rescuing my father from the Dark One. I am the Scion of Andraste, but my full potential had not yet been realized. This wasn't me being modest, it was the truth. No amount of training on my own could prepare me, I realized this as well. I needed someone to continue teaching me, not in the rules of this world but by those beyond.

It's a nigh impossible wish to fulfill, to pray for something or someone adept at the same things father was in to come teach me. But stranger things happened before. Who knows? I might get lucky and stumble on someone from his world.

"Oh Papa, wherever you are, I hope you still remember me." I thought out loud.

A strong tremor suddenly shook the earth beneath our feet, frightening Alfsigr out of her wits. The mare bucked and whinnied, nearly throwing me off the saddle had I not held on tight to the reins! "Whoa there, girl! Easy!" I calmed my mount, stroking her neck as the tremor died down as quickly as it begun. I decided to investigate the source of that little quake, knowing from experience that it wasn't the natural sort.

Nearing the glen off road, I heard the sound of a battle being fought, and one fought quite fiercely by the horrific screams of men and women drawn to the slaughter. I nudged Alfsigr to a quick trot forward, keeping my eyes front and ever-watchful should my investigation prove too dangerous to continue. Soon, I ascended the hill and got the view I was looking for.

The fields were soaked crimson with the blood of the slain, where horses and soldiers lay strewn like discarded splinters from chopped lumber. In the middle, leading a small band of fighters, stood a towering monster made entirely out of ice!

"Wow, that's not something you see everyday." I remarked. Alfsigr neighed her reply, showing her eagerness to depart from this mess. I agreed with her and drew the reins to the side, guiding my mount to make way for the road again.

But before we could even resume our journey, I heard a woman scream for help, halting me in my tracks and prompting me to turn about to face the battlefield. She carried a standard bearing the coat-of-arms of House Everborn, a Fereldan clan known very well in the underground for sheltering and harboring mages since the days of the Templar Order's infancy. The shattered symbol of the circle in the middle of those three phoenixes could be recognized anywhere.

Today, the men of House Everborn faced against the small but powerful band bearing House Marlin's standard. I haven't heard much about them, but from the looks of it they picked a fight against Everborn under the influence of the Templar Order, whose power had grown with the swelling hatred against all magic-users. They were a little stretched thin in Fereldan soil, but that did not stop them from employing the local lords from having at those they deemed treacherous.

The Mage-Templar War does this to people. It splits brother from brother, forcing them to pick sides. The mountains pale in comparison to the amount of bodies laid into the earth day by day.

The woman had the look of a commander, with that brown bear pelt hanging about her shoulders like a cape. She took an arrow to the knee as she began to sound the retreat. She never finished, and her men were slaughtered. The commander screamed in agony as the horse she rode on soon had its legs torn from under it by the heavy blade of a Marlinner axeman, the animal had fallen atop her wounded leg and soundly broke the bone in two places. She didn't let the pain keep her from the fight, and she managed to yank her sword free from under her. Though pinned in place by her fallen mount, the woman fended off the Marlinner and stuck him through the gut with her blade, buying herself some time to get free from the suffering stallion.

"Come on, girl." I told Alfsigr, spurring her forward into a gallop. "We can't let this one fall to the Templars."

I drew father's sword and leaned out low on my saddle to the right, catching several Marlinners by surprise as I joined the battle. Geisteel cuts so cleanly, better than mortal steel ever could, the momentum only served to empower my strikes as I rode straight into the frey. Instinct screamed at me that I was not the Knight of Heide, I was still mortal- and that a single stray arrow or lucky thrust of a spear would end my life here and now! I ignored it, letting the rush of blood to my head drown out all doubts as I cleaved through the Marlinner ranks.

I had but a little oaken buckler the size of my arm to protect me, but my quick actions served me better, so well that I had little need for it at all.

The massive iceborn monstrosity soon reverted to its original form- a woman clad in the most curious looking frost-encrusted armor. She bore a greatsword that was easily her own size, which I would say was quite the stature! She towered above most of the Marlinners, prompting me to question whether or not she was truly one of them.

Or perhaps someone who happened on the same battle and chose a side...like me? If so, she chose poorly.

I dismounted with a quick sweep of my legs over the saddle, letting Alfsigr ride to a safe distance as I went to the fallen commander's side. "Worry not, I'm here!" I reassured her, helping the woman out of the burdensome beast and onto the soft grass. With a rub of my hands, I set the healing spell over her injured leg, restoring the torn flesh and shattered bone back to its original state.

"Thank you, lass!" The woman said gratefully, "But I fear your involvement in this battle changes nothing. This one is lost."

"What?" I answered, "A stranger with a new form of magic comes and you'd just give up? No, milady, this is far from over." Some might call me crazy, but I call that undying determination. It was Papa's attitude, I guess I got a little of him in me. He'd disapprove of my involvement in this battle, but I'm not one to stand aside while so many good people die to keep the spirit of freedom alive. These were noble warriors who deserved my help, and I would give it to them. "Stand by me, I will shift the tide in your favor!"

"I am Lorana, Sentinel-Captain of House Everborn!" The commander stood up, "If you see there is a chance, then we shall rally to you!"

Papa has taught me much, but this was the first time I've ever called on a large band to my command. It was difficult at first, but I swallowed the bitterness of self-doubt and trusted in the Knight of Heide's teachings. "Call on your hounds." I said to the Sentinel-Captain. "They will disrupt the pikemen formations better than your mage-brethren could."

"What? But the mabari are used as messengers! They cannot-

"Trust me, they're looking forward to this." I assured Lorana.

The Sentinel-Captain reached for her whistle and blew three shrill blasts that echoed above the din of the battle. A few minutes later, the hounds came dashing across the field with the speed of a stampeding bronto herd. Like the warhounds of old, the mabari swept over the assembled Marlinners and overwhelmed them completely! I knew that would happen, but was astonished to see it myself.

"Would you look at that?" I chuckled, watching the pikemen stumble around with the hounds having at their necks and shattering their knees from below. Why on earth would the Everborn use mabari as messenger-hounds in the first place? They're far more useful out on the field than delivering parchments all day. Driving in that point to the Everborn was quite satisfying.

"Archers!" Lorana called to what was left of her marksmen, "Pick your targets and fire at will!"

The archers did not disappoint, they picked off the axemen first and then concentrated on the pikemen struggling to get back in formation. The Marlinners' champion, the frost-flecked lady, did not take kindly to this turn of events and rushed headlong into the fray. "You!" She thundered, taunting me into a duel. Her armor was strong, too thick for the arrows of the Everborn to pierce. She ignored the missiles that rattled against the surface of her breastplate, and she swung her sword about her head that shot out a powerful magical arc that swept all who stood before her.

My lips grew taut with determination as I prepared myself for battle. Inwardly, I hoped Papa's sword was strong enough to pierce even that frost-flecked armor. Her greatsword whistled as it missed my neck, a narrow escape for me as I instinctively leaned back. "Whoa!" I dove forward and let her strike at the bloodsoaked grass, striking at her left thigh as I passed through.

The armor held, but the blow forced her to bend the knee.

In quick response, the knight struck out, nearly impaling me upon her weapon as the blade glances off the surface of my cuirass! "You don't mess around, do you?" I exclaimed, padding back to a safe distance as she regained her stance. "A skilled warrior like you should not ally yourself with those Templar sympathizers!"

"I have made my choice." She answered, "This is not my battle, but I won't let you slaughter these noble soldiers!"

Clearly, she's new around here. "You've made the wrong choice, then."

"I won't let your words dissuade me from taking action!" The knight roared, throwing an ice shard that shattered when it struck my raised buckler. "Enough talk! Raise your weapon and fight!"

"As you wish." I said with a shrug.

Soon, the Marlinners were all driven out of the fields, leaving the wayward knight alone to face the wrath of the Everborn army. She was a brave one too, willing to go against those that numbered a hundred strong. She swatted and slashed at the spear tips that pressed against her like the walls of a cage, slowly driven back into the edge of a steep cliff that overlooked the gushing river below.

She was exhausted, I could tell by the way her movements had slowed over time. "I'll...I'll take you all on!" The knight shouted desperately. At this, Lorana gave the order for the archers to let loose their wrathful hail. Her armor was still so unnaturally strong! No amount of arrows could pierce her, although they did manage to knock her back. One in particular sent her off the edge of the cliff and into the river below.

"Hold fire!" Lorana commanded, taking pause to look over the ledge.

The knight had fallen and struck her head against a rock. She remained still, even after we had made the slow descent into the riverbank where she lay. The Everborn commander kicked the fallen warrior's weapon aside and removed her helm, preparing to drive her dirk into her eye as retaliation for the many losses she had suffered today.

I grabbed her arm before the blade could take the downed knight's life, "No, stop!"

Lorana glared at me and snarled, "Why should I? A lot of my friends, good loyal men to House Everborn, died because of her! This is justice!"

"I don't blame you for being angry, Captain, but don't sully your honor by slaying this woman outside of battle." I told her, "Take her to Lord and Lady Everborn to await judgement. This is the only righteous path."

Lorana looked down upon the knight and then back at me. She wrestled with her anger for a moment, and succeeded. "Very well..." She took a deep breath and sheathed her dagger, "I am the hand of His Lordship. Her execution shall be decided by him and him alone." Lorana stood up and motioned for her men to bring the ropes that they may bind the prisoner. "You have done well, stranger. Without your intervention, our resolve would've broken. Many more would've died had Andraste not sent you to us."

My ancestor had nothing to do with it. "Glad to be of assistance. I am called Riven." I shook the Sentinel-Captain's hand in greeting, "You'd best make for the fortress, Lorana. The Marlinners would undoubtedly return in force."

"Come with us." She beckoned as the men prepared to make the march back home. "Some food and a soft bed is the least we can do in return for your help today."

"Actually, yeah." I said with a smile, "That's a good idea, thank you!" I whistled for Alfsigr to trot back, then hoisted myself up the saddle. After stripping the field clean of what could be salvaged, the army moved on South in the direction of Castle Everborn, one of the many powers vying for control of the Hinterlands.

 **}!{**


	5. Amata: Allegiance

**}!{**

I awoke to the heavy rush of blood that suddenly flowed into the aching depths of my skull. Sitting up with a groan, I held up my hands to silence the shrill shrieking echoing in the halls of my ears, only to find them meet halfway as the chains that bound them reached the end of their length. My eyes narrowed, gaze following the fetters until the rest upon the bases dug deep into the hard cobblestone wall. My armor was gone, replaced by a rough leather vest and breeches that barely protected my skin from the cold, damp air.

How did I get here?

I remember falling from the heights of the cliff, then hitting my head hard against a stone in the river below. I came to here, now a prisoner of the winning side.

"She's awake." I heard the guard outside whisper to his companion, followed by the loud scrape of boots upon the floor and steady footsteps leading further away from my cell door. He'll go to inform his superiors of my state, that's for certain.

Why did they let me live? To what end would keeping me alive bring? The questions build up easily. I suppose the answers would come, if someone was bound to visit me in this prison.

I could escape. That shouldn't be too hard.

Thinking it easy, I groped around the dark to take hold of my chains. Calling on the old magic, I willed the frost to enwreathe the fetters with its embrace, only to find to my bitter disappointment that no matter how hard I tried it would not answer. "What in damnation?" Something was inhibiting my powers. But what was it?

There was something new, a collar around my throat. I touched it, sensing a faint but existent element that sapped at my will like a leech.

"Apologies for the inhibitor." A familiar voice spoke from the door. Twin eyes of bright green peeked from the narrow slit, before the door was unlocked and pushed open. Before me stood the same ashen-haired warrior I had the displeasure of encountering in the battlefield from before, the woman whose involvement had shifted the tides of battle in the enemy's favor and sent me plunging into a world of hurt. "I would've preferred you waking up in a warm, soft bed in the infirmary rather than in this. It would've helped do away with most of your doubts, but then again, you helped killed a lot of good Everborn men that day."

She took a seat on the ground close to me, "Hence the precautions."

"Why did you let me live?" I asked the question.

"It was all me, really." She replied. "Lord Everborn and Lady Lorana Kaerstark wanted to have you executed, but I spoke out in your favor. Just barely, I managed to get them to change their minds. I insisted to be the first to speak to you once you've regained consciousness."

A little bit of gratitude found its way to the surface, but remained confused. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I believe you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, then made the wrong decision." The ashen-haired woman said, leaning her head back against the wall. "Putting myself in your shoes, I may have done the same."

There was a long pause, then she continues. "Those men you've allied yourself with were of House Marlin, a minor house in the Ferelden nobility that had sided with the Templars when the Mage-Templar War erupted. Not to split hairs, but they were the wrong lot for you to support. House Everborn's only crime was sheltering the persecuted mages who fled to the Wilds, Marlin condemned them and so brought the war to their door. The battle you fought in was only one of many, but few that ever fought on equal ground. House Marlin has had a nasty reputation for raiding villages suspected of harboring apostates, burning them to the ground and slaughtering all within, never one for meeting an enemy in open battle. House Everborn got the rare chance of avenging those innocents, and you nearly cost them more than was necessary."

"I know nothing of these things." I answered to my crime, "Yet I will not hide behind excuses. If I am to die, then I shall take the axe willingly."

"Oho, not so fast, milady." The woman stopped me, "You willingness for penance for your mistakes is commendable, however, I believe it is a waste of your unique talents. There is room for redemption here, I assure you."

I saw what she was getting at, "Go on."

"I propose this. Pledge yourself and your sword to me, and by the power invested in me by House Everborn, I promise you absolution from your mistake. Personally I think it's a little too ceremonious for my taste, but I have to make do with what I can around here. Lord Everborn won't have it any other way."

This was a welcome boon in my journey. I would be a fool to refuse her offer, so I accepted. I am no honorless rogue, I will keep my vow when I swear it. "I would stand and salute you properly if not for these chains."

"You have only to say it, I don't require you to prostrate yourself or anything." She stood up.

"I, Amata Cerwynn, pledge myself to you as your sword. Your friends are mine, as are your enemies. Until I have fulfilled my vow, I shall stand by you until the winds grow cold with death and the earth's heart shall cease its beat." I made the pledge and stretched forth my hand for her to take, "Might I know your name, milady, that the oath shall be completed?"

"I am Riven." She took my hand in hers, warming it with her gentle touch. "It's nice to meet you, Amata." The woman took a step back, "Oh, and before I forget." With a tap on the door, she beckoned the guards to release me from my bonds. As they worked to take off the fetters and inhibiting collar, my eyes could not help but fixate themselves on the blade hanging at Riven's belt.

It could be just my imagination, but I sort of recognized the make. This was not my world, and that sword did not belong here either. "Your weapon, milady." I said to her after I had received my confiscated gear and changed into it in the armory.

"Hmm?" Riven snapped to attention, obviously deep in thought before my inquiry.

"I said, your weapon. That sword wouldn't happen to be made of geisteel, would it?"

Her brow arches, "As a matter of fact, it is. Why do you ask?" Riven pursed her lips, "Or better yet, how did you know it was geisteel?"

"The shimmer, milady, the way it does like the waves of the sea. Only the lost kingdom of Heide had forged such weapons before it was subsumed by the Great Blue." I answered, interest greatly piqued at the fact that she knew what it was as well. "If I may ask, where did you get it?"

"I got it as a gift from my father." Riven said, excitement making itself known in her eyes. "And you know of Heide? Dare I ask, are you from that world beyond Thedas too?"

"I am no scholar in transplanetary arcane arts, but to answer your question, yes I am from a world beyond this one." A smile found its way into my face. I was one step closer to my goal, I knew it to be so!

"Flames of Andraste, I knew it!" Riven clapped her hands joyously, rambling about some quest of her own."And here I was near to despair that I would never find a clear path to finding him! A welcome coincidence, to be sure." She stopped, noticing my confusion over her words. "What are you doing here, so far from home?"

"It's a long story, milady." I replied, "But perhaps there is a chance here that we may help each other, no? If there are questions, I shall endeavor to answer them as best as I could."

"Very well, but I shall hear of your tale first before I speak. My questions can wait for later."

* * *

I told her everything, sparing not a single detail in the retelling of my experiences following my awakening from the halls of Eleum Loyce- save for that bit about the Knight of Heide. I wasn't sure it was truly one of the subsumed kingdom, so I saved my doubts for later when my thoughts were on equal footing. Riven listened well to every word, keeping her thoughts to herself until after I had concluded my tale.

"And that's how I landed in the forests where you found me, amongst the men of House Marlin."

"Interesting." Riven frowned, "But why would she...why would Andraste say she made a mistake? And what was all that about my father?" Her expression grew to worry, brows furrowing as the worst of her fears surfaced. "Oh no. It can't be. He wouldn't allow himself to be enslaved by the Dark One, he just can't! Unless..."

"So you believe it to be him as well?" I asked, "I could be wrong. There were many other Knights of Heide that survived the ruination of their kingdom..."

"I've never known the Prophetess to be mistaken." She shook her head, "This just confirms what I've been thinking, and proves my nightmares to be true." Riven sighed, suddenly looking very pale. "Oh my god. Papa..."

The woman sank to the bench and buried her face in her hands, "You sacrificed too much..."

"Milady?"

Riven sniffed, wiping the little tears spilling out of her eyelids. "No, there's still hope! What can be corrupted can be redeemed, I refuse to believe this is the fate my father deserves!"

I doubt there would be any other way to save him, only through death can an undead be redeemed.

"You will take me to him, understand?" Riven's tone was demanding, although I knew she tried her very best to make it sound less so. "You will help me find a way to rid him of Nahr Alma's hold on his soul!"

"And if we cannot, milady? What then?"

Her lip stiffened, "Then I shall be the one to kill him. It is only right that it should be by my hand, by one who loved him most."

"Shall we begin our journey, then?" I offered, "I have no solid lead on your father's whereabouts but that should not keep us from searching it out."

"Frustrating bit of business, is it not?" Riven said with a shake of her head, rising up to walk with me up the steps of the Keep. "Never mind, I'm sure we'll think of something soon."

I followed my liege up to the study, where the lord and lady of the castle awaited, bent over a large wooden table stacked with state papers and an even larger map of the realm. The guard of Everborn gripped their weapons tensely as I entered the courtroom, obviously remaining uncertain over the wisdom of letting me roam free after that horrid misunderstanding a day behind.

Lord Cutler Everborn, an elder long in years yet who held himself with the sturdy air of a younger man, raised his eyes from the studded map he'd been staring at for what must be much of the morning. Those bright blue orbs had seen their fair share of hardship, I can tell by the way they burned with barely contained resentment.

"Lord Everborn." Riven greeted the man courteously, giving him a low bow as she brought up the subject. "It is done."

The stern look he gave me put to shame the fires of the Old Chaos. "I hope you've come to understand that you are not free of the noose you've tied for yourself. You've killed many good men in those fields, all of them loyal servants to House Everborn, a slight that I shall not so easily forgive." A deep breath was drawn, and the lord of the castle spoke again. "But I am a generous lord, and I rule my lands with fairness. Lady Riven here, a hero to my people, has spoken for you. She claims that you have made an error in judgement, and that you will be willing to redeem yourself through servitude. You have made your pledge to this, I assume?"

"I have, milord." I replied.

"Good. Now, onto the matter at hand." Lord Everborn beckoned Riven to come near. I stayed where I was, the Kingsblade upon the floor and held firmly in my hands as I watched the two converse. "News of ill tidings has finally reached Ferelden." He said bitterly, "It has come to Everborn lands a little too late, I fear. Peace could've been brokered over the Templars and the Mages, only to be wrested away by someone's foul scheme."

"So, the Divine is dead?" Riven's tone was grim.

"And the Mage-Templar War resumes." Lord Everborn echoed. "Damnation, the Maker has a fucking sense of humor! Now we'll have to deal with this upstart organization they've drawn out of the ashes of the Conclave. Calling themselves the Inquisition, the Chantry doesn't even bother to hide its desperation!"

Lorana, Captain of the Sentinels, and one who might hate me more than Lord Everborn, walked in. "It might be the one good thing that has happened out of the mess, your Grace. I've already met with their emissaries, their cause to keep order out of the ensuing chaos is just and good." She does not hesitate to throw a spiteful glance my way.

"In your opinion." Lord Everborn stated, "Forgive my skepticism, but good intentions do not tend to survive long in these dark times. For all I know, it'll be just another attempt of those Templar bastards to seize power like that Knight-Commander did in Kirkwall so long ago! No! Not on my land while I yet draw breath! Send them away with a warning. I would have none of those Inquisition agents treading upon Everborn soil, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, milord." The Captain bowed, leaving immediately to carry out his command.

Lord Everborn sighed, running his fingers across his long graying locks as he watched Lorana from the window. He called my liege over to him and whispered, just barely out of my earshot. "I would know of this for certain. Go see what the Inquisition plans for the Hinterlands."

"You suspect foul play in the making, milord?"

"It is the only reason why House Everborn continues to stand to this day." Cutler shrugged, "I may be wrong about them, or might not. But I don't expect them to leave immediately, so I need you to observe whatever reasons they may have for tarrying. Do this, and you've earned my favor for yourself and your charge."

"It will be done, sir." Riven bowed, "I shall take my leave now."

 **}!{**


	6. Riven: The Inquisition

**}!{**

 _The sky ran red like a grievously dealt wound. Lightning snaked through the angry clouds, followed by deafening claps of thunder._

 _I stood upon a broken cobblestone bridge stretching over a wide chasm connecting a two archways that acted as the city's main gate. A dull noise that resembled a cacophony of assorted drums, shield-beatings, and warrior chants sounded from within the ruined citadel. The place was a crumbling mess, beaten to its foundations by the angry sea roaring all around it. My brows furrowed as I gazed about in curiosity._

 _"What is this place?" I said to myself out loud._

 _Wishing to investigate, I followed the noise and scrambled up the thick piles of rubble blocking the path inward. It took a long while, but I managed to get inside the citadel. What I found was unexpected, for lack of a better term._

 _An army of dead gathers in the square, all dressed in tattered grey and silver plates. Funny though, with those helmets they wore they kind of looked like Papa from a distance. As I looked at all those rotted souls, I wondered to myself whether this was still a dream or a vision of what was to come._

 _Was I looking at a manifestation of my fears, or was it the message from my ancestor that I've waited so long to hear?_

 _"This is Heide." I realized then. "This is what Papa talked about all those years ago." My eyes widened as I my excitement grew. This could mean the one clue that would lead me to him!_

 _I pushed through the masses, eager to reach the middle of the gathering where I assumed my long lost father would be. The walking corpses paid little heed to me save for giving way when I pressed for entrance. Their moans gave voice to their annoyance, but they let me be. They were a head or two taller than me, so I had to stand on my toes every now and then to find my way around._

 _"Papa!" I called. "Papa! Can you hear me? Where are you?"_

 _Minutes passed, my eagerness turned frantic. I was about to give up when I saw something in the distance._

 _A tall figure in nightmarish black armor with a tattered crimson cloak draped over his shoulders. The helm that covered his face was unmistakable. It was Papa's helm- it was him!_

 _"Papa!" I waved at him, pushing myself free at last to climb the pedestal on which he stood. I could not describe the kind of smile that beamed on my face at that moment, the words do me no justice. It was a vision, a dark one, but I was closer to him than I've ever been before._

 _Then, he looked at me._

 _That helm turned, its narrow slits blazing with unnatural fire as he stared. I could hear the heavy breaths blowing through the holes on its visage, felt the unbearable heat of the flames burning within him. In his hands he carried a bloody single-bladed battleaxe that looked like it had the opposite edge broken off. The blade had the figure of bristling wolf etched upon its edge, ready to rip and tear at its master's command._

 _The darkness surrounds him, and a woman of unparalleled beauty enwreathed in black mists manifested herself. With silken-soft hands, she wrapped herself about my father's shoulders, and her voice dripped with venomous honey as she addressed me._

 ** _"The Knight of Heide is mine, Scion of Andraste, as will all things when I come for the Black City."_** _Her eyes blazed with the same fire that burned in Papa's eyes._ _The waves of Heide roared even louder as it spilled into the streets of the ruined city. The Dark One cackled in a thousand mirthful voices as the waters drowned everything beneath its crushing weight, **"The Maker had already lost. Thedas' age of despair has come. Drown, burn, become one with the Dark!"**_

* * *

I awoke, startled to feel the cold splash of an early morning drizzle's visit to the forest I and my companion have pitched camp in. Amata was already awake, and she had rolled in her blanket and packed up everything.

"Ah, I was just about to wake you!" She exclaimed, "Looks like the rains did my work for me. Shall we be on our way, milady."

"Just calling me Riven's fine." I grumbled, rubbing my eyes out. "I'm not a noblewoman for you to curtsy all the time for."

Amata shrugged, "A good point, you certainly act better than one does, that's for sure." She extended her hand to help me to my feet, which I took in gratitude. "From your lack of enthusiasm, I take it you haven't had that much of a good night's sleep?"

"No, had another nightmare. A little bit different from most, but still frightening." I answered, putting the saddle on Alfsigr and hoisting myself up on her back. "I apologize in advance if I show any bad attitude throughout the day."

"Duly noted." The Loycen Knight acknowledged as she got on her own mount. We headed back into the main road and followed the path towards the direction Captain Lorana had taken when Lord Cutler Everborn had sent her away. This would be one of many favors I would perform in order to get under the lord's good graces on Lady Cerwynn's behalf. The damage done was great, it is only through great fortune that Lord Everborn was generous at the time and allowed her penance.

On my end, I'm just grateful it worked out in the end. The Loycen Knight can right her wrongs, I've got an ally who can help me save Papa from Nahr Alma, and at the same time we get to do some good in this senseless Mage-Templar War.

Amata must've noticed what was bothering me, and her due questions were given voice soon after. "Riven, is something wrong?"

I shook my head, "Not really, no. It's just the nightmare, it's really supposed to be nothing but it's quite a nag now that I keep thinking about it."

"Tell me of it, that I may share the burden."

"That's awfully gracious of you, but there's really no need." I sighed, "It's just the Dark One taunting me. I cannot let it get to me, it's just what he wants. The only way I can help Papa is if I focus on the task at hand, and that's finding a way to reach him."

"Do you have any idea of accomplishing that?" Amata asked.

"None, but I'm sure I can think of something. I hope it's sooner than-

"Shh!" The Loycen Knight hissed suddenly as she pulled on the reins of her horse, "Listen!"

I frowned, keeping quiet so we can hear better. "Is that...thunder in the distance?"

"Magic, lightning to be precise." Amata drew her very very large sword from the sheath hanging on her mount's shoulder, "It's too consistent for natural weather."

"A battle, so soon?" I said as I shook my head, "Come on, let's just see what's going on before we decide to join in."

"Am I showing too much enthusiasm for conflict?" Amata reflected, "I'm sorry mila- Riven."

I chuckled, spurring Alfsigr forward. "It's fine. Just try not to get carried away. I'd hate to revisit you in the dungeons of some angry lord so soon after Everborn Keep."

We cleared the bush and entered the battlefield, this time keeping a great distance between ourselves and the parties involved. There were three of them, as much as I could discern. A band of renegade Templars who were one of many that splintered from the Order after that mess in the Conclave Lord Everborn spoke of; some rebel Mages who in great desperation started turning on the townsfolk; and then a third party holding a copper-colored banner with a strange eye-symbol of silver painted across it.

"That looks like the Inquisition!" I gasped, "There's no mistaking it. Hah! And I thought it was going to be a hard job finding these people for Lord Everborn."

"The lord is desperate for a solution that would bring peace to his lands." Amata observed, "I cannot blame him, but are they the answer?"

"From Captain Lorana's report, I would say they're the one thing trying to make sense out of all this chaos." I said with a shrug, "I guess we'll have to find out for ourselves."

"So, do we join the battle for a direct and rather crude introduction or are we to wait out the onslaught and then initiate a formal one?"

"Hmm..." I took pause and considered the Knight's suggestion. "It worked so well when I met you. What do you think of the chances of a direct, crude but successful introduction of gaining favor with this organization?"

"If we meet their interests, I think it's rather favorable, mila-

Amata rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation.

I laughed, "Fine, you can call me 'milady'." Just please, don't overdo it, alright? I kicked Alfsigr's sides gently and spurred her into a run, "Yah! Get in there, girl!" I drew my father's sword and bent at the waist as my mount picked up speed. Everborn nor Marlinner forces were in sight, just these three. That also meant me and Amata were the only ones to charge into this battle, but that didn't mean we were unprepared.

I can shout down a whole mountain and throw heaven's wrath on my enemies at will, Amata had the power of snow and ice. I was confident we didn't need an army for this.

We were one.

I held out my buckler and blocked a stray arrow as renegade templar archer shot out at random. I stretched out my blade and leaned to the right, parting a man's head from his shoulders as I rode past. Amata followed me in, but dismounted quickly and went on foot. Her horse galloped out of the fray, leaving her in the middle of the skirmishers' formation who had gone a distance from the main battle to assist their forces from safety.

This proved to make the Inquisition's forces' work difficult as they were assaulted from all sides with steel-tipped arrows and jagged missiles. Amata made sure to give them time to regroup, and so she attacked the skirmishers and disrupted their fire. Her large blade cut a bloody swath through them, bisecting all who were near and freezing to death all who were further away.

"Sparky?"

That voice sounded familiar.

I turned, startled to find a templar suddenly appear in front of me, axe raised to strike. Three crossbow bolts stopped him in his tracks, fired from an all too familiar crossbow-repeater held in the hands of a certain dwarf that was very dear to me.

"Sparky, it _is_ you!" Varric exclaimed, elated to see me as much as I was to him. "I'd hug you right now, but I'm all soaked in blood as you can see."

"Uncle Varric?! What are you doing here?" I stopped to shove a mage out of my way as I walked towards him. "Y'know what, I'll talk to you when this is over. Some bad guys need killing."

"Couldn't agree more." The dwarven prince grinned, reloading Bianca for another go.

I waded in deeper into the fray, similar to the way Papa did a long while back, and from there I cut my way back out. Although I knew I was as mortal as the next person, I had little fear for my own safety with each moment spent in the chaos of battle. There's nothing that could compare to the grim joys of carnage. From the way my blood boiled as I hacked my way past each man or woman, to the screams of each defeated enemy. Aunt Izzie described it as battle lust, and warned that it's very contagious.

Well, I guess I can consider myself infected.

I grunted as my back hit something solid, and I whirled around quickly to address the stranger I'd bumped into.

He was a big man, taller than most I've encountered in my life. Couldn't have been more than thirty years of age, but I might be wrong. A trimmed beard covered his cheeks and chin, barely obscuring the bristling lips underneath the fur curtain. He carried a pair of broadswords, thick with the blood of his felled enemies, and carved with intricate magical runes.

For a moment, we stood there, unmindful of the battle around us as we regarded each other.

"Easy there, we're on the same side." He said gruffly.

He was dressed in a mix of boiled-leather and studded steel, but it was the iconic eye-symbol that stood out the most. This was most likely the Inquisition's leader, and if so, I'm in luck. There's no better impression to be made when the boss is around to watch.

I gave a nod and resumed my work through the battle, bringing it to a swift close as I unleashed a powerful Sundercry that toppled over half the Templar renegades and gave the Inquisition the chance to rain all hell upon the downed rebels. They finished them off and scattered the survivors, leaving the battlefield for the Inquisition to claim.

"Damn, Sparky." Varric chuckled as he approached me after the battle's conclusion. "I forgot you can do that."

"I can do a lot more than scream, Uncle Varric. It's good to see you alive and well, in light of all that's happened." I bent down and embraced father's stalwart companion and old friend.

The Inquisitor frowned, "Varric, do you know this woman?"

"Ah yes, quite well in fact. I've known her since she was child." Varric replied as he stepped back to take me in, "My my, girl, how you've grown! You look even more stunning than I've pictured!"

I felt a blush coming on and barely stifled it as I glanced down shyly, "Oh stop it, Uncle Varric."

"This is Riven, daughter of a good friend of mine." Varric introduced us, "No doubt you've seen her in action, I guess that speaks for her capabilities as a warrior?"

"Yes, you were quite formidable back there." The Inquisitor sheathed his blades and took off his right glove to shake my hand. "I'm Beric, leader of the Inquisition and Herald of Andraste."

I shook his hand, but threw Uncle Varric a curious look.

He shrugged, "Yeah, I know. They thought it silly too. But trust me, you'll get used to it."

 **}!{**


	7. Amata: Avvars of the Swamp

**}!{**

We accompanied the Inquisition's forces as they returned from the battlefield to their encampment further up the hill. My lady Riven chose to speak with the Inquisitor on House Everborn's behalf that we may do the lord his favor and end our servitude to his House and be on our way. Hours passed, the day had grown late before I saw her leave the tent. Assuming that their talks were finally over, I approached milady and inquired of what she learned. "Do we have what the Lord Everborn needs? Is the Inquisition willing to help with the Mage-Templar problem."

Riven pursed her lips and shook her head slightly, "Yes and no."

"Please elaborate."

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair as she reflected on their exchange. "The Inquisition's a fairly new organization, that much is obvious. Nobody recognizes their power, not even the Chantry much less the nobility around here. I'm afraid it looks like a dead end."

"But...you think there's a chance, yes?"

Riven shrugged, "Inquisitor Beric Trevalyen said as much. The Inquisition does not have sufficient influence, but it is working its way to get it. I, however, am choosing not to leave without getting Lord Everborn what he needs. I think I should find a way to get the both of them to help each other, but I've got to convince Lord Everborn to maintain an open mind to it. Worst case scenario- he sees it one way and assumes this whole endeavor is a waste of time and we get nowhere."

"Perhaps we stick to the plan then?" I suggested, "The Inquisition tries to bring order to this chaos-ridden place, we help them do that and Lord Everborn finally gets the peace his family's sought for all this time."

"Yeah, I know." Riven groaned as she plopped down on the grass, "It's all easier said than done."

"Or we can just ride off into the wind and pursue your father." I proposed, "This matter can solve itself, but the task involving the fate of your world cannot wait."

"I just said that I'm not leaving until this matter is resolved." Riven's jaw was set, "I'm staying."

"And my vow forces me to keep to your side." I said, crossing my arms as I leaned on the oak tree behind me. "I do hope for both our sakes it will turn out for the best."

"So, Sparky..." The dwarf friend of milady called Varric approached from the clearing, having finished his duties to the Inquisition. "Now that we've got time to talk, how are things going with you all these years?" His tone lowered, "And by the way, how's Hawke?"

"I'm alright, Uncle Varric." Riven smiled, scooting over so the dwarf could sit next to her. "Uncle Garret and Aunt Izzie are alive and well. They're quite happy where they are, hidden and safe from the horrors of the war."

"Glad to hear it. And you? What brings you so far from home?"

The smile faded as quickly as it grew, "I'm looking for a way to get Papa back."

"Oh." Varric's tone grew serious. "I see."

"Don't look at me like that, Uncle Varric, I know he's alive. The Dark One took him from me, from Leliana. I _will_ get him back!"

"Calm down, I don't doubt you can, Sparky. It's just that I'm a little overwhelmed of your enthusiasm, that's all. Now, tell me a little bit more about what's going on."

Riven took a deep breath, "Alright. You've already met my companion, Amata Cerwynn?"

I gave the dwarf a curt nod but kept silent.

"Yeah, not a talkative one too. I guess everyone from Langerd's world has gone mute."

I grunted in response and let milady do all the talking. "She's met him. She said that the Dark One's using Papa to further his plans for his impending assault on Thedas. So far, it's been only missions of gathering powerful artifacts and assembling undead armies. The worst is yet to come, but I am putting a stop to his schemes while it has yet to bear fruit."

"You've got a plan, then?"

"I..." Riven paused, "I do."

My brows furrowed upon hearing this, "You do?"

"She speaks!" Varric made me jump with his sudden exclamation.

"Dammit, dwarf!" I snorted.

"Papa's grown in strength with darkness, but as he draws from it he is vulnerable. I'm not entirely certain, but I believe he's located in the ruins of his old city."

I cocked my head to the side, "Heide?"

"I've seen the place in the Fade- it's a long story." Varric nodded, "Nice place, looked like it was built to last. That is, until the ocean swallowed it all up."

"Milady, how do you know of this?" I inquired.

"I know you're going to dislike me not telling you immediately, but it was all from a dream- one that I remember so clearly like it was a vision sent by Andraste." Riven replied, "At the time, of course I wouldn't jump to conclusions. I've given it much thought, and now I'm set on it."

"Then we only have need to journey to Heide and confront him." I said, "But if we're right about this, then we are woefully unprepared."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you faced a Knight of Heide, or any warrior of my world for that matter?" I asked, remembering keenly my last encounter with Langerd of Heide.

Varric spoke up, "Langerd once said he faced down an entire army with a broken sword and a handful of fireballs. I think we get the idea."

"Yes." I nodded, "And picture him with all the powers of hell at his beck and call, and directly under Nahr Alma's influence- we are dealing with a force of nature."

"A god." Riven said with a frown.

"Exactly. It'll take more than you and me to beat him and hope to wrest him away from the clutches of the Dark One." I replied, "And then even have a chance to escape unscathed."

"You'll need professional help." Varric managed to hold a lopsided grin, "Fortunately, this world of ours has plenty of heroes to turn to. And speaking of which, Inquisition's in dire need of the same thing. Now, I'm not saying I speak for them, but you can always ask for help from them."

"And what good can they do? How much better can they deal with this situation than us?" I said skeptically.

"Well, you never know." Varric arose, dusting off his leather coat as he headed back to the camp. "I've walked with some pretty bland characters who turned out to be the best in what they do in the end. Throw your luck in with us, you won't be disappointed."

"So basically, everything revolves around the Inquisition now, is that it?" I grumbled out loud, "The arrogance of it all disgusts me."

"He might be on to something there, actually." Riven surprised me with her answer.

"Oh no, please don't milady." I begged.

"You said it yourself, we're woefully unprepared." She smirked, "What do we have to lose by doing as Uncle Varric says? But first thing's first, we settle the problem with Lord Everborn."

* * *

Dusk had fallen quickly upon the Inquisition encampment.

Lady Riven imparted a message to Everborn Keep, stating her intentions, but remained at the Inquisition's disposal as promised. I'd say that the relationship she shared with the dwarf was very strong indeed, given her decision to aid in their endeavors throughout the Hinterlands. I can't say I'm pleased with the way things turned out, but at the very least I can use this opportunity to get back in shape.

Remaining trapped in ice until called upon can render one a tad rusty, a state unfitting of a servant of Eleum Loyce. I must grow in strength, as I've advised Lady Riven, in order to stand a chance against the Knight of Heide and his infernal master.

"Would you like some roasted squirrel, Amata?"

I looked down, grimacing in disgust at the steaming clump of meat skewered on a pointed stick. "Squirrel? Uh...no thank you, milady. I'm quite satisfied with my leek stew."

Riven shrugged and withdrew her offer, "From your reaction, I take it you don't have many squirrels where you come from."

"Eleum Loyce is high up in the bare mountains, totally devoid of forests for the critters to make their homes in. So yes, not any at all."

"Sounds awful, what do you have for game there?"

"Well, there's the elk and the mammoths. They make up for what we lack in squirrel meat, and to tell the truth I actually miss the taste of their soft and tender flesh. Oh gods, what I would give to have slice of mammoth steak right about now."

"I hope you pardon our lack of ingredients, then." The Inquisitor Beric Trevelyan said as he exited his tent. The man had good ears, hearing us from that distance. "Our food supplies are low on stock but we make do with what we have."

There was a hint of displeasure in his voice, and I was quick to apologize for my callous words. "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant, Inquisitor."

He grunted, choosing not to press the issue. "Lady Riven and Lady Cerwynn, I understand you've pledged to support the Inquisition in restoring the balance to the Hinterlands. If this is so, I believe I have a task that should prove to be the first step in accomplishing that goal."

Riven wiped the oil from her lips and stood up, "Yeah? What needs doing?"

"We have a patrol being held hostage by Avvar. Their leader, a braggart itching for a fight, did this to challenge the Inquisition because of what I represent."

"Representing what, sir?" I inquired.

"You've heard by now that everyone calls me the Herald of Andraste. This Avvarian wants to pit his god against the Maker, basically." Sir Beric sighed, "Now, I'm not one to answer every taunt thrown my way, but the lives of good men and women depend on my decision. I cannot ignore it, and I will not stand idly by while the threat of death looms over their heads. I will have need of your skills as I head out into the wilderness. Will you join me?"

"If it helps restore order to the Hinterlands, sure." Riven answered, tightening her belt and brushing the leaves out of her silver locks as she followed the Inquisitor out of the camp. I donned my helmet and fell in step with my liege, eager to get back in action after a period of inactivity.

The party involved three other individuals, not including the Inquisitor himself.

There was Varric, the dwarven merchant prince who carried a unique crossbow-repeater to battle. A mage with curious pointed ears who called himself Solas. And then there was that warrior-woman Cassandra Pentaghast, a Seeker of the Chantry who stood as watcher and adviser to the Inquisitor.

Cassandra stood out among the four when she treated me and Lady Riven with cold indifference, not exactly an uncommon gesture but was distasteful nonetheless. Varric's mirthful spirit, though I found to be an annoyance initially, made up for the lack of camaraderie in the party. "So, Lady Cerwynn, how'd you and Sparky meet?"

"I tried to kill her, she forgave me, now I serve her." I answered.

"Oh." Varric awkwardly retracts, "That's not something you hear every day."

"It's fine, Uncle Varric." Riven spoke up, "I didn't take it personally, you shouldn't either."

"I have to ask." The Seeker interrupted, "How did you come to know Varric?"

"I lived in Kirkwall for a good part of my life, Lady Pentaghast." Riven politely gave her reply, "Uncle Varric, among many others, helped raise me. And I think you know it's not hard to get to know him once you've had at least one good talk with him. The stories he has for you will make hours seem like seconds, isn't that right, Uncle Varric?"

There was a proud grin on the dwarf's face, "Y'know it, Sparky."

"Why do you ask, if you don't mind humoring me?"

Lady Pentaghast scowled, "Oh it's nothing really. I'm just curious that when I asked that he spared no detail of his time in Kirkwall he neglected to mention about you. Or the Ashen Warlock who caused the War on the Free Marches, and your relation to him."

"I didn't think it was important at the time." Varric defended.

Riven feigned being hurt, "Uncle Varric, how could you forget? Shame on you!"

"You and I will have a very long talk when this is over, dwarf." Lady Pentaghast growled.

"Watch your step." Inquisitor Beric announced quietly, "These swamps are treacherous, filled with the undead spawned from the rifts. Do not step on the river, it will only attract more of them."

Undead? Here, in this world? The corruption of the Dark One knows no bounds.

"Isn't that a good thing? I mean, we can clear the swamps of the undead when they come for us." Riven suggested.

"Not if it's miles and miles of corpses clutching steel and firing barbed arrows." Beric replied with a shake of his head, "The remains of decimated armies flow through the Hinterlands, poisoning the already battered land and keeping it from ever recovering. Don't add to the sea of the dead, we must focus on more pressing concerns like the barbarians roaming the hills and preying on the refugees."

"Look out!" Cassandra exclaimed, drawing her greatsword and striking at a shambler as it rose from the bog. The head was severed from its neck with a loud squelch, and the body fell back from where it came. More corpses followed its example and raised their weapons against us.

At this, Solas backtracked to a safe distance for him to channel his spells without getting interrupted. Varric did the same, firing sparingly one shot at a time for each undead soldier. I commanded the frost from the Kingsblade and froze the bigger shamblers where they stood that Lady Riven would be able to shatter them to splinters with her sword.

Inquisitor Beric's blades made short work of the rest, and he commanded us to head deeper into the forests and away from the bogs, keeping us clear from the attention of the undead that we may get to the task at hand.

"Nothing like a brief scuffle to get your blood pumping, eh?" Varric heaved a sigh of relief.

"I think Bianca's gotten scratched." Riven remarked.

"Oh no!" Varric exclaimed in genuine concern as he turned his crossbow over, "Don't worry, darling, I'll see to that as soon as we get back to camp!"

"There, I see one of the Avvars!" Solas alerted the party to a lone guardian standing vigilant among the gravestones.

"And a rift." Inquisitor Beric acknowledged, "Be ready, I'm about to make an attempt at closing it. The demons of the Fade will undoubtedly come to its defense."

"Mend the tear, Inquisitor." Lady Pentaghast stood behind me. "We'll be ready."

Beric stretched forth his hand against the visible green scar in the air and called upon the powers at his disposal. A similarly greenish glow emanated from his open palm, then a burst of lightning shot out from his fingertips, forcing the tear to close. His fears of demons were not far fetched, however, for they came with all the furies of hell.

"Here they come!" I yelled, twirling my blade high up over my head before thrusting it down upon the earth. The moment the Kingsblade struck the muddied soil, a powerful blast of biting cold winds blew the dark ones away as they emerged from the tear. The frost slowed their movements, allowing the Seeker to press for advantage.

Lady Riven dove forward and let out a scream, shattering the heavily carapaced demons manifesting within the earth and halving the enemy forces within seconds! She took note of my astonishment and grinned, "Yeah, that never gets old!"

"Almost done here!" Inquisitor Beric groaned, obviously laboring under the pressure of the fel magicks. "Just a little bit more! Agh, there!" There was a loud screech as the tear was forced to close, dragging the demons back into the hellpit they crawled out from in an instant. The battle ended there, quicker than I'd hoped but I was grateful for its conclusion nonetheless.

Inquisitor Beric heaved with exertion, "Damn, that was close. Great work, everyone. That's one less rift to worry about." He turned to address the Avvar guardian, and the two fell in deep conversation. Their exchange was primarily concerning the Inquisition's missing patrol, but I could hear snippets of Beric's desire to recruit the Avvar to join his order's forces.

"A few years back I remember you playing in the courtyard with your straw dolls." Varric said to my liege, "Now look at you! All grown up and keeping pace with the big boys!"

"Not to toot my own horn, but I believe I've outpaced most of them." Riven said with a wink.

"Do not let your confidence belie your capabilities, girl." Cassandra warned.

"It's just friendly banter, Lady Pentaghast." Riven replied kindly, "I'm not a proud woman, as many folks I know can attest to."

"Let her be, Sparky." Varric shrugged, "Just like Langerd, she's really no fun to be around with. But you'll get used to it after some time, I know I have."

"Come along, everyone." Inquisitor Beric called, "The Keep's nearby, and time is of the essence. The hostages have not long to live, I intend to keep the Avvarians' blades off their necks for good. Let's go."

"I certainly hope they remember how hostages work." Varric remarked.

"That magic you're wielding." Solas drew closer to me out of curiosity, "I've never seen such affinity to frost. Where is it you said you've come from?"

"It's Old Magic, from Eleum Loyce." I replied, "Likely not heard of it."

"I've been to many places in my time in the Fade, but yes, I've never heard of this Eleum Loyce." Solas mused, "Perhaps we can talk more about it when we return to camp?"

"I suppose." I grunted.

"Herald of Andraste! Face me!" Someone cried in the distance, "I am the Hand of Korth!" It came from within the ruined Keep, where thirty Avvar barbarians awaited us with raised axes and nocked arrows.

"He's expecting you, shouldn't disappoint." Riven said to the Inquisitor.

Beric nodded, "Oh I don't intend to."

The Avvarian leader carried a wicked-looking barbed warhammer on his massive shoulder. He looked about seven feet tall, with arms as wide as an adolescent's waist. Over his large head was the skin of a bull complete with a set of horns to match its hideous visage. Upon the Inquisitor's acceptance to his challenge, the barbarian howled and charged headlong into the fray.

His followers supported him from a distance, those armed with swords and axes only engaging when the rest of us closed in. The archers proved to be an annoyance in this encounter, so I went for them first.

As Beric dueled with the Avvarian leader, Riven and I cut down the Avvars to half their number and scattered the rest to the wilderness.

Cassandra refused to let them escape, however, and cut them off from the exits. She and Varric finished them off quickly, and then turned to watch as the Inquisitor battled furiously with the barbarian aspirant.

Beric dove between the giant's legs and severed his legs at the crucial tendons, driving the man to his knees and leaving him exposed for the killing blow. Roaring in agony, the Avvarian made a futile attempt to prop himself up on his hammer, only to be stopped halfway as Beric closed the twin blades in his hands over the man's neck.

With a deft twist of his hands, the giant was rid of his head. The corpse shuddered in response, and fell straight and true until it collapsed motionless upon the rubble.

Thus concluded our first step in restoring order to the Hinterlands.

 **}!{**


	8. Riven: Fury

**}!{**

Beric moved away from the headless corpse and heaved a heavy sigh, "Glad that's done."

I smothered the smile of triumph that threatened to grow on my face and began the search in the ruins for the missing Inquisition patrol. I found them in the cellar, more or less intact from where the Avvar left them. Hope shone bright in their eyes as they took in the Inquisitor's familiar battle regalia, and those that were able rose their feet.

"The Herald came for us!"

"I told you he wouldn't abandon us, thank the Maker!"

"Are you able?" Beric asked those he deemed worse in shape, "It's a long walk back to camp from here."

"We'll manage, Inquisitor." The strong ones hefted the weak onto their shoulders and carried them out of the room. "Again, thank you for the rescue."

"An escort won't hurt." Cassandra declared, "Once we're finished here, we'll join you on the road."

"As you wish." The officer in charge gave his consent.

I couldn't help but offer my services as a healer, watching those brave men and women grimace and moan in agony all the while. Though some showed an unwillingness for a mage to approach them, I healed the most grievous of their injuries for them to have a better chance to walk back to camp without falling over halfway. As my hands work their magic, I could feel Beric's intense gaze on me.

At first, I thought it was just me flattering myself, but then I threw him a sidewards glance. There he was, studying me in silence. "Something the matter, Inquisitor?"

"A warrior and a mage?" I heard him muse, "Most people I've met are one of the two, never both. I find it all intriguing, just an observation."

I still didn't like it, "Well, I'd prefer if you'd just talk to me about it instead of ogling me like a piece of furniture. That I'd much appreciate, Lord Trevelyan."

"My apologies, I forget myself." Beric bowed his head, "Are you finished? It sounds like a storm's picking up."

"I am." I patted the soldier on the back and straightened myself out, "Shall we be on our way then?"

We marched on back through the bog, careful to skirt around the river where the corpse shamblers hung about. Beric's observation proved true, for the wind indeed grew stronger and the rains battered down ever harder upon us. The deafening roar of thunder could be heard miles around, the resulting downpour limited our vision to a mere six feet as we proceeded further into the forests. Soon, the storm had worsened to the point that we could not continue on through the path back to the camp without losing our way.

Fortunately, an abandoned homestead stood in a lonely hill across the glen.

"There! We'll take shelter and wait the storm out!" Beric's voice strained above the rains, "Come along, pick up the pace!"

I pulled the door shut behind me once everyone had gone in. All in all, there were sixteen of us including the patrol we had rescued. Not too cramped in that room, which was one of the few blessings we've had all day. I set the fireplace alight to warm our cold and drenched bodies, noticing how quickly the chill had set on the men as their teeth chattered and their bodies shook like leaves in autumn.

Hours passed as we patiently waited for the storms to cease. At the strike of midnight, I became too restless and walked towards the window to peek out into the fields. The rains were still strong, and the view offered little else than a foggy impression, totally obscuring the horizon and pretty much everything else.

"Where'd you learn how to fight like that?" Beric asked as he approached me.

"My father taught me." I replied, smiling slightly at the memory. "Everything I know and learned was his doing. Oh, but that won't be so accurate. Eight or nine years of my life was spent training in the art of swordplay, archery and the mastery of the arcane. And then one day he was taken from me. I had friends to help me with the rest growing up."

"Taken from you? He died?"

I looked up at the taller man, "No. He's alive, but imprisoned."

"Do you know where he is?"

"I've got a good idea, but it's merely speculation at this point." I sighed, "It's all I have, but I'll make do with it."

"Who took him?" Beric inquired after a period of silence.

I hesitated in answering his question, knowing the string of likened inquiries that would undoubtedly come after. "I don't know how to answer that without having you think of me as a madwoman."

"Try me, it can't be any worse than the things I've been through." Beric gazed at me thoughtfully.

I took another deep breath to prepare myself for the worst, but as I opened my mouth to let the words flow, upon a sudden a shaft of lightning struck the field outside. Worse still, the veil of reality split like a hideous gash, bleeding forth a torrent of black mists into this world! I felt the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand on end as the malevolent energies pulsated, widening the portal further until it was wide enough to swallow the house we were in.

"Maker's breath, what is that?!" I heard Varric exclaim as he caught sight of it.

"The Dark One approaches!" Amata whispered harshly in my ear, "Ready yourself, milady!"

"Fuck!" I swore, "It's too soon! Are we ready for this?"

"We may not have a choice!" The Loycen Knight declared, "I pray it is only his servants, else this is the beginning of the end for this world!"

"I think we're halfway there already." I said with a shake of my head. Father's sword made an audible hiss as I drew it out of its sheath. Confusion was apparent in the Inquisitor's face as he beheld the creatures of Drangleic as they spilled through the rift.

"What's going on?"

"We're under attack, isn't that obvious?" Varric answered, readying Bianca for another go. "Sparky, how do you want to play this out?"

"I haven't a clue, just rip and tear until it is done?" I replied with a shrug.

"Ah, sounds like a plan!" My beloved uncle quipped.

Four heavily armed knights strode forth from the abyss, their armor adorned with writhing, screaming faces and wicked spikes. Their helms were carved into bristling skulls, with eyes that blazed with unnatural green flames. With the rains obscuring much of the view, that was all my imagination could paint in my mind at the moment.

As I exited the homestead with Amata, they gave off a chorus of animalistic howls and yelps, then marched steadily onward.

One carried a maul laced with black pine that he set alight. The second had a massive warhammer that he dragged through the dirt in his wake. The third moved a bit lighter on his feet than the rest and carried a long, narrow blade that I've heard Papa mention as a 'katana'- whatever the hell that was. And the fourth stayed at the portal, with his longsword stuck into the earth and his hands upon its hilt, watching as his fellows did most of the work for him.

Varric and the others came in late, which was fine by me. I didn't want any of them to get in the way, not until I've dealt with the worst of the lot.

A spray of rain droplets slap across my eyes as the first knight swung his maul with all his might, aimed for my head and would've split it in half had I not gotten my sword in the way. Geisteel rattled noisily as it met the infernal weapon halfway, and then I parried the maul aside to deliver a solid kick at the knight's leg, just at the knee to drive him off balance.

The force of the blow did its work, although it wasn't enough to shatter the bone.

I heard Amata grunt and curse as she went against the other two, struggling to keep in pace with the katana-wielding knight and avoiding the earth-shattering force of the other's warhammer.

The flames of the maul grew hot against my hands as the heat seeped through the gaps in my leather handwraps, "Get off me!" I yelled as the knight put all of his weight upon me, which was all the distraction I needed for him to not notice Beric strike him from behind. The Inquisitor buried both of his blades into the knight's back, causing the Dark One's servant to howl in apparent agony.

I smiled, knocking the maul out of his hands. But alas, I had celebrated too early.

The knight cackled, knocking the Inquisitor back with a well placed kick. _**"Fool! You cannot kill that which is already dead!"**_

Well shit. Just what I need, four undying bastards as training dummies.

Out of impulse, I lopped off the knight's head with Papa's sword. The corpse stumbled backwards but caught its balance just as it was about to tip over. I stared at it in disbelief, wondering to myself at what would it take to kill an undead touched by the Dark One's malevolent touch. Inquisitor Beric leaped forward and hacked at the shambler's limbs, reducing the body to little more than a bloodied torso.

Beric heaved, "One down."

I wasn't listening, having my attention drawn to the soul that slithered out of the ruined pile of gore and rode out into the winds until it joined with the other three remaining knights. As if struck by lightning, the knights began to convulse violently! Through the slits of their helms, they spat blood and roared in great agony. Suddenly, tendrils of purest black obsidian burst out from their chests and backs, and their screams turned from human to bestial as did their fighting style!

The death of one chipped away at their sanity, which caused me to fear for what should come after we've killed all three and left to face the fourth and his wrath.

 _ **"I will pull your guts out of your mouth!"**_ The one with the warhammer bellowed as he charged at me. Quickly, I somersaulted out of the way and returned to form that I might deliver a blast of hungry flames to devour him from the inside out. It proved to be ineffective, save for driving him into a frenzy. _**"I will make a goblet out of your skull!"**_

I grimaced as the powerful weapon shattered the earth beneath me as I dove to the side, avoiding a gruesome end as the knight hammered away with reckless abandon. _**"From it, I shall drink your blood! And I shall offer your soul to Nahr Alma!"**_

"Hey ugly!" Uncle Varric taunted, firing a barrage of six shots that impaled the knight's feet onto the muddied soil. "That's no way to talk to a lady!"

Thinking him vulnerable, Cassandra moved in and shattered the knight's helm with her sword, exposing the hideous charred face beneath it. The skull opened its mouth, unleashing a torrent of burning red souls that bathed the Seeker in its malevolent light! Cassandra screamed and shrank back, holding her badly burnt face in her hands as she collapsed onto the battlefield.

Amata moved to the injured Seeker's side and drove her greatblade through the knight's belly, then made a savage pull that tore the knight in half from waist to shoulder! I then dragged the screaming Seeker out of harm's way and put her against a nearby tree. Then, I returned to battle.

The other knights drew from the strength of their fallen brothers and grew ever more powerful. The one with the katana drew a curious battle stance and then breathed fire into the longblade, with this he made one slash and the whole forest around us caught fire!

"What the fuck!" I exclaimed as the air around us grew thick and hot. The rains, for a moment, ceased as the droplets turned to vapor. Bark snapped and groaned as the fires ate away at the oaken treeline, the heat and smoke blinding us momentarily.

It was all the knight needed to do away with our allies, and he cut down the Inquisition's patrol squad as they reeled from the blow.

"No!" Beric cried.

My heart wrenched as I heard the screams of those unfortunates. The men and women of the Inquisition were no match against the wrathful dark knight, and their charred remains proved evident enough.

 _ **"Despair, dustlings of Thedas!"**_ The knight thundered, drawing his blade close to his helm in that same battle stance. _**"The Age of Darkness is upon you!"**_ Uncle Varric shot at him with all he had, but the knight bore the storm of bolts without so much as a flinch.

"Milady! On me!" Amata called, lifting her blade high as she summoned one of her most powerful spells. With a furious shout, she unleashed the powers of winter into a manifested beam of crystalline blue that froze the knight where he stood! The Loycen warmaiden groaned as she put in everything she was worth, the sapping of her strength caused by the spell drove her to one knee but she held on through the sheer force of her will.

I took a deep breath and howled at the frozen knight, the Sundercry shattered his body to a thousand pieces, removing yet another piece from the board.

That took a lot more out of me than I expected. I dropped to my knees in exhaustion, almost forgetting that we had one more opponent to best before the battle could be won. The final knight stood where he was all this time, still watching and waiting for who-knows-what.

Finally, as the souls of his slain brother-knights lent him their strength, the monster plucked his weapon off the ground and approached our weakened party. He came close to me, to which I responded with a slow chop of Papa's sword.

 _ **"Pathetic."**_ He caught the blade in his heavily gauntleted hand. _**"Is this all the Scion of Andraste has to offer?"**_ With a loud clap, the sword broke under the knight's grasp!

I uttered a gasp as the knight held me by the throat. My weight pulled on me, cutting my breath short as he held me aloft. _**"Behold, Thedas, your savior!"**_

"Let her go!" Beric growled, coming to my rescue. The knight, unfazed by his attempt, tossed him aside like a ragdoll. The Inquisitor slammed hard against a burning tree, whose branches broke off and pinned him to the muddied earth.

I felt my blood pounding hard against my temples, felt the world grow dim as my lungs fought for air. In that moment, as the knight proceeded to strangle the life out of me, I heard Papa's voice ring in the back of my head.

 _"Your enemies will show no mercy, show no pity. One day they will lay you low as I've done, but they will kill you. What will you do then? What will you do now?"_

My eyes suddenly felt as if two molten coals touched their lids, and a rage that I've never felt in a long while flared within me! My hands trembled as a strength that had gone to sleep since my time in Kirkwall took over, and I wrenched myself free from the tightening grip on my throat. With a solid kick, I pushed the Knight a good three feet away and crouched low like a tiger ready to pounce.

My throat felt raw as I gave off a roar that was more animal than man, my heart hammered in my ribcage like a furious blacksmith striking at a stubborn ingot, and my blood pounded so hard that I could hear little more than a shrill ringing in my ears. Also, much to my surprise, my hair glowed so bright that I might as well have set my own head on fire!

I launched off, lifting the knight off his feet as I tackled him to the ground. Screaming with all the fury of hell, I throttled the knight across the earth and slammed him back down onto the battered soil! So hard was my assault on the surprised servant of darkness that his nigh-impenetrable armor cracked, and the knight was left reeling from the force of the blow.

As he rose to recover, I dragged the heavy warhammer left from the previous battle and put in all my weight to swing it about for maximum impact.

The head connected, sending the knight flying back into the rift from where he came from. As soon as he passed through the gaping maw of the portal, it snapped closed. Soon after, the storm dissipated into a gentle drizzle that calmed the raging flames of the burning forest and my burning heart.

The agonizing feeling in my eyes, chest and ears left as soon as I calmed down.

When all was well for me, I approached my charge and helped her to her feet. Amata had this bottle on her that resembled the one Papa used to drink whenever he was injured in battle. A healing draught of sorts, a useful thing to take to battle indeed. With her permission, I took a sip from its contents, nearly choking to death on the sudden spike of pain that came with it as it restored my vitality.

"Damn it! That stings!" I coughed, "Couldn't you have warned me about that before I took a swig?"

"Apologies, milady. I never thought Estus would prove too much for you."

"A lesson for the future, then." I grunted, thrusting the bottle back in her hands. I took one look at the remains of the battle and beckoned the Loycen Knight to follow, "Come, help me with these guys. Pass that bottle around, I don't want to drag them behind us."

"Yes milady."

I approached Cassandra first, laying my hands on those burns in her face and neck that I may heal them out of existence. The Seeker thanked me quietly and rose to help free the Inquisitor from under the heavy branches. He didn't look too good, and it seemed like it was out of my expertise to treat. "This one'll have to be seen to by the doctors at Haven." The Seeker declared.

I lifted the man onto my shoulders, much to the Seeker's surprise and Uncle Varric's amusement, and set off in the direction of the Inquisition encampment. There will be no patrol to retrieve today, another bit of bad news that everyone's hoping to avoid altogether, but alas we cannot control everything that comes our way.

I just hope Beric won't take being kept in the dark personally when he wakes up.

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	9. Amata: To Old Heide

**Should've updated this a long time ago, and now it's here! Enjoy :)**

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The respite would not last, I knew this to be so. Even with the way things turned out, it was only through luck that we survived the undead onslaught, and keeping that in mind caused my vigilance to never falter. Rightly so, for when they came pouring out of the tear through the fabric of reality, only I remained ready to strike back.

"What the hell?" Riven exclaimed, aghast to see our enemies lash out so quickly. "Another attack?! It's too soon!"

"The scourge do not rest!" I replied, summoning the last of my strength to slow the tide brewing within the portals suddenly yielding forth their deadly cargo. "Go! I will buy you time!" The Kingsblade swung left and right, dispatching shambler and soldier alike. I don't know how many I killed in the spur of the moment, nor did I care to count. My mind screamed thoughts of self-preservation, body burned with the effort of pushing against the limits, and my arms grew ever more sore as the muscles felt the toll of the long grueling battles fought on that same day. My form grew lax, my resolve faltered, and soon I found myself withdrawing further and further into the charred remains of the forest.

We would not win this, that was obvious. The Dark One had finally carved out a territory for his army to take root. Soon, the darkness shall spread across Thedas and shall consume all life. This cannot be stopped by our hands, nor the Inquisition, alone. Heroes can only do so much against Nahr Alma's growing tide. I have done what I could, now I must flee.

We all must flee.

I heard the whinnying of the horses and the clopping of galloping hooves in the distance, the Inquisitor had been safely removed from the battlefield. My liege tarried long enough to hitch me a ride back to the camp, and I mounted the horse as quickly as I could. I ignored the sting of arrows biting into my back and thighs as the undead archers sent hail after hail against us to prevent our escape. They were largely unsuccessful, but the marks of their efforts would prove sore in the weeks to come.

"It has begun." I panted into my liege's ear as I gripped her waist, "The darkness closes in on your world."

"Then that just means we step up our game." Riven replied.

We returned to the encampment, just in time to witness the battered and bruised heroes get dragged off into the healer's tent. I'd say that Sir Beric got the worst of the lot, from the looks of it. The man was brave to face down against a champion of the Dark One, but was woefully unprepared for a power beyond all comprehension. We were lucky, very lucky this one time. The next encounter won't fare as well, and I could already imagine the body count that would result from the impending assault upon the Hinterlands.

To make matters worse, Cassandra's spiteful words proved that she blamed the two of us for the undead ambush. "You knew they were coming, didn't you?!" In other perspectives, some may say the pain of her burns influenced her harsh tones, but I could say otherwise. "All those lives, wasted! What foolishness would prompt you to keep such knowledge to yourselves?"

"Do not think to place blame on us, Seeker!" I retorted, "We knew of the Dark One, but that attack came as a surprise to us just as much you. We have our own reasons for keeping it to ourselves, and your reaction currently proves that it was wise of us to do so."

"Wise?" Cassandra answered incredulously, "The Inquisitor, the only hope left for a unified Thedas, lies in ruins in the room next to us! You had a hand in this just as much as those vile undead by your inaction-

"Everybody calm down!" Riven butted in, "Look, I understand how you feel about this, Lady Pentaghast. I really do. But I also want you to understand that we kept it from you because the question would have brought on more, and you'd end up hunting us down as heretics of the Faith."

"What are you talking about?"

My liege's lips tugged into an uncomfortable smile, "It's a very long story, but I'll give you the short version. I am Riven, direct descendant of the Prophetess Andraste and daughter of Langerd the Grim. My sole purpose in life is to battle the Dark One and keep him from turning this world into an undead cesspool as he's done so with many others."

All present were stunned to hear what they've just heard, especially the Seeker.

"The first part would be hard to believe, but it is the truth." Riven shrugged, "Please don't call me a heretic..."

The Seeker exchanged glances with her lieutenants and threw my liege a scalding glare, "What you claim is madness, and blasphemous beyond compare...yet in light of what I've seen today I'll give you the benefit of a doubt. I cannot lose more allies, and the Inquisition certainly cannot afford it. You are free to go."

"We're not going anywhere." I declared, "The Dark One's forces are coming, and you will all be slaughtered if we do not give aid."

"Then if we're fighting them, it won't be here." Cassandra replied, waving off the healer once his duties were done. "We will return to Skyhold and regroup with the main force. I shall send word to warn the people of Ferelden of the coming horde, they must know what they're up against."

"Perhaps you won't have to." The voice of the Inquisitor spoke up, and all eyes turned to Beric as he entered the room looking none the worse for wear. "You say the source of all the undead scourge is this Dark One? What if we take the fight to him instead? Could we do that?"

My brow arches, and Riven blustered at the proposition. "You're talking about killing a god in his own turf! This isn't like fighting an ogre, or some darkspawn champion, it's a fucking god! No, we can't do that!"

"Is that so? Why do you sound so scared now?"

"Of course I'm scared, I know my own limitations!"

I turned my gaze to my liege, "Milady, if I may...I believe the Inquisitor's plan may not be all that bad. It may be our one chance to halt the invasion while it yet is in its youth." Riven does not answer, she only stared at me with a slackened jaw and an aghast expression. "To my knowledge, the Dark One enacts his will from the beyond through his champions- an extension if you will. I believe your father may be at the heart of this invasion. If we wrest him from the hands of the Dark One as soon as possible, the undead will no longer have a stable hold on their sanity and will turn on one another."

"And what if you're wrong?"

"Then we take our chances here, bunker down until the undead finally overrun us." I revealed, "It is the only options I can see."

"Fine." Riven sighed in resignation, "How do we do this?"

I held up the Kingsblade, "This sword holds the power to sunder the fabric of reality, but can only do so once in an unspecified period of time. Travelling with you has taught me much about my next move, and I am ever more certain of where your father is- he is in Old Heide. There, he gathers strength. We can go immediately, but you must decide carefully on who to bring."

"We're too short on hands here." Beric spoke up, "We definitely need to return to Skyhold, there's someone there that I know can even up the odds."

"Who do you have in mind?"

"Her name is Leliana, she's the Inquisition's Spymaster and an agent of the Divine."

" _Was_ an agent of the Divine." Cassandra corrected.

"Leliana?" Riven spoke the name with familiarity.

"I take it you've met her before?" I asked.

"She's father's lover, it's pretty hard not to know her." Riven replied tactlessly, realizing too late what her careless words would impact. "You did not hear that from me."

"So it's settled then?" I inquired, "We go to Skyhold, gather allies and make way for Old Heide?"

"Yes." Beric replied, "Alright everyone, you're dismissed. Pack up everything, we move immediately. Hop to!"

* * *

We left at the crack of dawn, spurred onward by the faint howls and thunder of battledrums. The undead army marches upon the Hinterlands. Ferelden will keep them occupied long enough for us to get to Skyhold, then to Old Heide, then back to Thedas in time to see the fruits of our labors. I can only hope our efforts would not be in vain, for I can never tell how strong Langerd has become in my absence. No doubt he has gathered many more forbidden artifacts in that small span of time, and I can only imagine what horrors we were going to face when we at last tread upon the sunken streets of that cursed city.

"I feel bad leaving them to that." Riven confessed as she rode beside me.

"It will be worse if we did not." I answered, "Far far worse. This way we have a chance to weaken Nahr Alma by ridding him of one of his greatest champions."

"If it comes to killing him, it should be by my hand." Riven said to me quietly, "Understand? It should be me, and only me."

"I understand, milady." I replied, "You love him, that will make it very hard but not at all impossible. I pray you will find peace when it is done."

"Thank you, Amata."

"If you don't mind me asking, how is it that you came to call him your father?"

"Langerd saved my life when I was a little girl. The Tal Vashoth came and destroyed my village just outside the walls of Kirkwall. I survived by hiding in the cabinet of the smithy, and that's where he found me." Riven chuckled, "And to think the first time we met, I drove a dagger through his eye!"

I could not hold back my surprise at this, "What?"

"Yeah, you heard me." Riven smiled, going on to tell me everything she'd gone through growing up with Langerd. "Even then, our bond grew strong. Maybe it shouldn't have happened, but it did anyway. I owe him everything, saving him from the Dark One will not be enough to repay all he's done for me but I must pay it all the same."

I thought of my King, the same way all of Eleum Loyce thought of him, and realized there were many similarities between Riven's father and the Ivory King. Both had sacrificed much for what they loved most, and all those they upheld owed a great debt that could never be fully repaid. Thinking of such things goaded me to strive harder to find a way to save Langerd of Heide without killing him. That too is not impossible.

"How about you, tell me about Eleum Loyce. What's it like there?"

"It was a beautiful city of glass and steel that sat upon an ivory mountain...once." I said wistfully, "But even with the cold frost winds and ice, it remains as a frozen jewel upon the Peaks of Drangleic. My King built the city by his own power, shaping it into a paradise for the people of Eleum Loyce. With the help of the Oracle, he ruled us all with a just hand. But at the heart of the city lay a dark secret, that not even the King was prepared to face. There burned the Old Chaos, a living flame whose hunger cannot be quenched. When it threatened the lives of his people, the King cast a powerful spell of ice and snow upon Eleum Loyce, freezing it to time so that the Old Chaos cannot escape. But your father, Langerd, came to Eleum Loyce and stole the Old Chaos for Nahr Alma. This is why our paths crossed in the first place. I must return the Old Chaos to Eleum Loyce, or destroy it that my people can finally be freed from their icy imprisonment."

"I think I dreamed of that once." Riven said, "I walked upon Heide, past the thousands of undead Heideian soldiers and warriors of all time. I met my father, he was clad in black and he irradiates a peculiar heat. His eyes burned with an unnatural fire that I've never seen before."

"Interesting." I replied, "These dreams are the words of your Prophetess. I am certain of it."

"You know of my ancestor?"

"I've met her once." I held up the bottle of estus, "She gave me this as a gift for the long quest I am on."

We traded stories not long after that exchange, just to pass the time while we made that long trek towards Skyhold. Along for the friendly talk came Varric, who had more than enough to share for the whole group. Some were quite believable, others...not so much. Listening to him talk made me think the dwarf was quite likable, especially with his disarming sense of humor. Apparently he was just as skilled with words as he was with the crossbow, always landing at just the right spot.

When we arrived at Skyhold, however, the tune shifted to a more serious sort.

The time to strike at the Dark One was nigh, and I wasted no time dismounting and making for the high fortress. I followed the Inquisitor inside and waited with growing impatience for his allies to gather. The heat of this place was terrible, perhaps not so much for the locals, but for me it was unbearable! I sweated like an overworked horse, and it got to the point that I had to take off my helm so I could dry the heavy beads of sweat forming all over my face. The winds caressed my glossy skin, driving out the heat and cooling me sufficiently. I let out a sigh or relief and drew back a loose strand of my bountiful locks.

I made a note to retie my braids so they'd stop getting in my way.

"You there." An unfriendly, commanding voice spoke to me.

I turned around with an expression of annoyance on my face. A tall, fair-haired man in his late twenties approached me from behind the practice yard. From the way he was dressed, I'd say he was the officer in charge of the hold's garrison. "Are you lost? Probably so, you're late for practice. Get in line with the other recruits over there, by the training dummies. Come on lass, chop chop!"

"You mistake me, sir." I replied, "I am not a recruit." Without another word, I turned heel with my helm tucked under my arm and walked away to wash myself in the horse trough.

Presently, Inquisitor Beric arrived to exchange greetings with the man. "Commander Cullen! You're looking well."

I watched the exchange halfway, savoring instead the refreshing feeling of the lukewarm water washing over my salty skin. I overheard Commander Cullen from that safe distance inquire of me from his superior, "Who is that woman, Inquisitor?"

"Oh that? That's Amata Cerwynn, she's a powerful mage and a capable warrior. She came with a support team from House Everborn, of whose help we would not have done without with. She, and her liege, are the only reason why I'm here in one piece."

I smiled inwardly and threw the commander a condescending glance, my smirk noticeably grew as I watched his cheeks grow red with embarrassment.

"Why do you ask?"

Cullen swallowed that lump in his throat and shrugged, "Er...just wanted to make sure of something. Anyway, what brings you back to Skyhold so early? Have the mages in the Hinterlands cooperated that easy?"

"No, not exactly. That's not why we're back. Come with me, I'll explain it to you." Beric beckoned for him to follow.

The council of the Inquisition gathered in the upper rooms of the Keep tower, where the Inquisitor brought them up to speed so they'd understand the predicament we were in. Riven and I were invited to sit in, to provide details where they were lost. Here, I met Josephin Montilyet, the Inquisition's ambassador and chief diplomat. Where the commander's blunt personality earned my ire, Lady Montilyet's charm won me over. In hindsight, I guess that's what she's around for, and by all means quite good at.

"Welcome to Skyhold, Lady Cerwynn and Lady Riven." She greeted us courteously, "On behalf of the Inquisition, I thank you for your efforts in saving our esteemed leader from harm."

Riven wasn't listening. Instead, her attentions were drawn to a silent figure standing in the shadowed corner of the room. "Hi Leliana."

The figure stepped into the light, revealing a woman clad in a dark emerald cloak. Beneath the cowl was a face of unparalleled beauty, whose visage held two eyes of bright green that were ablaze with a murderous gleam. "Oh my." Those lips revealed a warm smile, and the gleam gave way to a disarming softness that even I, someone who has never met her before, did not expect. "Come here, child."

Riven stepped forward and threw her arms around the Spymaster's neck, who returned the gesture in kind by holding her close to her heart.

"Oh, is there something I'm missing here?" Cullen whispered to the Inquisitor.

"We're going to get him back." Riven's gaze was hard and serious as she stared into Leliana's eyes, "We're finally going to get him back."

* * *

Six whole hours had passed, our tales had been repeated and digested. The gravity of our situation had been realized, and no one dared to vote for the alternative of our decided solution.

"We need our best warriors, the best can only stand a chance I'd gather." Cullen offered.

"Gather whoever you think qualifies." Beric commanded, "We need all the help we can get."

"No." Riven said firmly, "The army of the dead marches upon this land, the people will need the Inquisition to protect them, and those warriors will be all that stands between them and certain death. We'll handle this mission with a select few, no more no less."

"Very well then, any suggestions for this small squad?"

"How good is Uncle Varric with his crossbow?"

Beric tilted his head to the side, "You tell me, you know him better than I do."

"He'll do." Cassandra finished. "Anyone else."

"I'll go."

All eyes turned to Leliana, Beric eyed her with confusion. "You can't do that. We need you here. As Spymaster, only you can coordinate the scouts for our soldiers to have an early warning in case the enemy arrives ahead of time."

Leliana threw him a gaze of her own, a cold biting glare that would freeze the fires of hell itself. "I've waited too long for this day, Inquisitor. You will _not_ deny me this."

"I'm sure her lieutenants can coordinate the scouts in her absence, Inquisitor." Riven offered, eager to keep everyone's heads cool.

"Very well." Beric threw his hands up in exasperation, "Any other volunteers?"

"Cassandra and I will have to stay and keep things in order while you're gone, Inquisitor." Cullen replied, "I'm afraid those are the only options you have. Well, that is if you're taking Solas along with you."

"Solas stays. I need him to keep at the work for the Rift, don't forget that's also one of our top priorities." Beric said with a shake of his head, "Alright, if that's all there is to say, let's get this over with. Grab your gear and stock up on the necessities. We travel to Old Heide immediately."

I nodded in response and walked out towards the ramparts, where I would soon open the portal that we may enter the cursed world of Drangleic. I knelt upon the hard cobblestone floor and stabbed the Kingsblade upon the cracks, closing my eyes that I may concentrate on gathering my strength for the spell. The winds of time whisper incoherently in my mind's ear, all of which I ignore to finish my task. I heard the footfalls of my companions as they gathered around me, prompting me to reach up for the Kingsblade's hilt so I may begin the ritual.

"This portal doesn't have side effects, does it?" I heard Varric comment.

"Shhh!" I whispered harshly, "Throw me off concentration again, and I might throttle all of us into the molten kingdom of Alonne!"

"Okay, shutting up now." The dwarf apologized.

I took a deep breath and grasped at the handle tightly, then let the spell do its work.

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	10. Riven: Patricide

**Another chapter just to prove this fic ain't dead :)**

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The sky ran red like a grievously dealt wound. Lightning snaked through the angry clouds, followed by deafening claps of thunder.

We stood upon a broken cobblestone bridge stretching over a wide chasm connecting a two archways that acted as the city's main gate. A dull noise that resembled a cacophony of assorted drums, shield-beatings, and warrior chants sounded from within the ruined citadel. The place was a crumbling mess, beaten to its foundations by the angry sea roaring all around it.

And below it.

My brows furrowed as I gazed about in curiosity.

"I dreamed of this." I breathed.

"Andraste's Flame." Beric gasped, "What could have caused this much degradation?" I knew this was the first time someone from Thedas has taken in the horrors of the other worlds broken by Nahr Alma's corruption, and I knew it could be a little overwhelming. Given time, they'll have to get over it, I hope they do so soon.

"This is the fate that awaits Ferelden, and all of Thedas if we do not stop the Dark One." Amata replied, "Come. Langerd awaits."

I took note of the hard gaze set on Leliana's face, which was unsurprising. I don't know how well she really knew Papa, but it was enough that she'd be so determined to see this through personally. I put my hand on her shoulder and asked in genuine concern, "Are you alright?"

"No." She said simply, brushing my hand away gently.

We marched forward, with weapons drawn and with eyes and ears alert for any sound or any movement that spelled danger. Varric was at the rear, covering us with Bianca. Beric, Amata and I took point that we'd have the first strike should our enemies close in from the front. In case anyone tried to take us from behind, Leliana faded into the shadows that she'd watch our back from out of sight. That made me a little uncomfortable, but I knew better than not to trust the Spymaster. She'd get the drop on the unsuspecting ambusher and deliver a swift death in return. That was good enough for me.

The dull thunder of battledrums was getting louder as we approached the dead city, we grew ever more cautious and our pace grew slower. The fear was palpable in the air, but I silenced my doubts as much as everyone else. We were committed now, there was no turning back.

There was no other route in but through the main street, where thousands of rotting, bloated corpses lay strewn in all manner of odd positions. The smell of rotting, acrid flesh was overwhelming and I gagged at the stench. "Gods!" I retched.

"There goes my supper." I remarked, wiping the bile-saturated remnants of my food off my lips.

Beric gave a cry of surprise as one of the corpses twitched at the touch of his foot, then proceeded to make the awkward effort to stand on bony, unsteady legs. The corpse footman uttered a raspy howl as it hefted its heavy longsword to swipe at the Inquisitor. Beric was quicker, and he severs the footman's head from its shoulders.

The other corpses, as if awakened by the death of their comrade, slowly rose from their graves in unison.

Varric's crossbow chattered thrice, taking out three of the more heavily armed footmen in quick succession. Amata and I cast our spells, both shattering through ice or rendering all to ash with fire. The path was a corridor, narrowed only by the cracked sections that spilled into the churning sea below us. I stepped lively as trained, swinging my axe around with calculated maneuvers. Papa's sword was a total loss in the last battle, but I kept the pieces back in my room in Skyhold. I'm not done with that weapon, what is destroyed can be made whole again.

"Forward, we can't let them keep us here!" I said to the others.

"Indeed!" Beric broke into a run, as did everyone else. But Leliana was still nowhere to be seen.

We arrived at the massive gates leading into the cathedral and square from my dreams, it was as if we were being funneled against our will, fated to follow the paths of my nightmares! As we crossed the threshold, however, the rusted and monstrously spiked gate chain was shattered by an unseen hand and the load was dropped behind us, sealing us in and barring the undead out. I looked up and saw Leliana, sword drawn over the chain that once held the gate open.

"Thanks." I said to her gratefully. But the second I turned my gaze out and looked back, Leliana had disappeared once again! "Does she do that often?" I asked the Inquisitor, not at all remembering her doing any of that in our time together.

He shrugged, "This is the first time I ever saw her in action."

The square we had arrived in was quite large, even more so than the one I saw in my dreams. The other thing different about it was that there was no army here, nothing save for the ashes and still burning remains of what used to be an army. "What the hell happened here?"

"It looks like..." Amata tried to answer, "...a sacrificial circle, bigger than most but it serves the same purpose."

"All those undead gathering, for this?" I asked incredulously.

"They do not stay dead." Amata replied, "Perhaps he's gathering souls, reaping them once they've returned from the grave?"

"Then that means we'd better hurry..." Varric piped up, "I don't want to be around when those things come back as you say."

We entered the cathedral, seeing that it was the only place in need of investigating. Upon entering the first gate, we encountered something that exceeded our expectations. There, standing tall and barring our way into the heart of the city, was a towering figure dressed in heavy grey armor, much like the knight armor Papa used to wear. He was a Heideian knight, same as him, but was more brutish and carried a double edged greatsword upon his shoulder. Someone else was behind him, and the other guardian revealed itself once his challenge was called.

 _ **"You shall not pass!"**_ His voice thundered throughout the halls of the cathedral, and the heavy weapon utters a loud clang as he let its edge drop from his pauldron behind him. The other guardian was a giant as well, most likely fattened with the influx of souls reaped from the armies outside. It was a woman, clad in shimmering blue and crystal linen. She carried a staff decorated with sea shells and pearls in a way that no mortal hands could have crafted, but sculpted from the sea by the gods! _**"Turn back."**_

"You're holding my father in there." I held my axe up against them, "Nahr Alma's hold on him will be broken, one way or another!"

 _ **"Then you die today!"**_ The warrior snarled, stomping towards us with a speed that belied his gait. He swung that heavy weapon with such force that the ground beneath us quaked and cracked on impact! I dodged out of the way and struck at the giant's legs when I got close enough. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the other guardian prepare her spells. Glyphs of red appeared in a circle around her head, and with a wave of her hand, she shot sixteen consecutive fireballs at the five of us!

"Fan out!" Beric shouted, sliding across the floor as the fireballs passed overhead without dealing harm to anyone. "Don't stay in one place!"

I heard the whistle, and an arrow glided swiftly through the air, striking at the mage guardian through the eye with deadly accuracy. It was not enough to kill her, unfortunately, but it did distract her with the agonizing pain it caused. The giant roared in anguish, babbling in her own tongue as she grasped at the shaft protruding from her head.

Leliana joined in the fight from above, using the arches of the pillars ahead as stepping stones. From her ivory bow, she shot at the guardians alongside Varric's unceasing hailstorm of steel-tipped bolts.

Suddenly, the blade of the warrior caught Beric at the chest and sent him flying against the stone wall. The Inquisitor had managed to get his blades in the way, but the force drove them into his body and cast him off balance. The armor he had was good, but that looked like it hurt. "Ow." The Inquisitor scrambled to get back into the game, and I gave him the chance to strike back by summoning all the force I had into the Sundercry. The giant staggered back, and Beric managed to sever his leg out from under him. The guardian roared as he collapsed onto the floor, _**"No!"**_

I took two swift steps and leaped, putting all my weight onto the swing as I swung downwards onto the giant's exposed neck.

With a loud crunch, the head popped off, spilling thick globs of crimson ichor onto the cracked floor.

Feeling victorious, I hefted the bloody axe onto my shoulder and cocked my head at the astonished mage. "What else you got?"

Amata took advantage of the distraction and drove her massive blade through the giant's stomach. Once her sword was through, she made a savage twist that opened up the guardian's belly and spilled her guts all over the disgusted Loycen knight. "Damnation!" Amata held up her arms and flapped them around to get the blood out, remaining largely unsuccessful as the ichor stained her whole person. I uttered an amused chuckle at her predicament and shrugged. This was easier than I thought.

Suddenly the door beyond us, the one the guardians were so driven to defend, opened.

 _ **"Blood for the Earth..."**_ That all so familiar voice rumbled.

My eyes widened as I took in the ash-covered figure dressed in nightmarish black armor.

 ** _"Blood for the Sky..."_**

The air grew increasingly hot as he approached, and his eyes blazed with an unnatural fire, no doubt stemming from the Old Chaos that surged within him.

 _ **"Bleed for me..."**_ Langerd, the Knight of Heide, beheld us with unparalleled malice. He took in the fallen bodies of his companions and cast his baleful gaze upon us all. _**"...for all that bleeds may die."**_

"Papa!" I called, torn between relief and caution as the one person I held most dear stood before me. Suddenly, I was a little girl of eight again, ready to jump into the strong, protective arms of my guardian. Half of my mind could see the kind, piercing gray eyes that held so much love for me, hear the gentle rumble of his voice as he read me stories before bed and comfort me in the stormy nights when the thunder kept me from sleeping. And then suddenly, I was this young woman of twenty, a warrior with one goal and one solution. I stood here now, axe ready to strike and purpose faltering.

My mind screamed the question. What the fuck do I do now?

"Langerd." Leliana lowered her weapon, "It's us." There was a growing smile of serenity on her face as she approached the Knight of Heide. Her hand reached up to touch the hideous visage of his helm, something she'd no doubt had dreamed of doing for many years. "Don't fight...come home to us...come home to me."

"Leliana, don't!" I yelled, knowing against what I felt that Nahr Alma controlled my father's actions at this point. He could not fight back, not unless we help him.

Papa's hand shot out so suddenly that no one had the time to react. He grabbed onto Leliana's throat and raised her up above the floor. _**"I am home..."**_

The Spymaster gagged and struggled to get free, Beric acted first and brought his sword down upon my father's arm. The armor held, but the grip slackened. Leliana kicked back at the Knight of Heide and shrank back to safety, all the while coughing violently from her bruised throat. Papa, drew his axe and started to convulse violently.

The air grew even more hotter, and the chinks in Papa's armor were set ablaze as the Old Chaos fought to be free from its mortal vessel.

 _ **"You could have left, you could have stayed...and now you BURN!"**_ Papa bellowed forth a torrent of red flame that was specifically aimed for me! I scarcely had time to cast a protective barrier before the flames lapped at me, but I managed to do so in a nick of time. Papa followed up with a dizzying blow to my jaw as his fist dove upwards and throttled me onto my back, I fought to regain control of my faculties and rolled over to the side just as his axehead buries itself onto the floor beside me!

Varric sent hail after hail at him with little success other than to set his attentions on him, to which he replied with a powerful blast of lightning forks that sent the dwarf flying against the pillars, taking him out of the equation.

"Uncle Varric!" I dove out of Papa's reach to see to the fallen dwarf's condition. When I got there, he looked pretty banged up, alive but unable to fight.

"I...I think...Bianca's gotten scratched..." He rasped before losing consciousness.

"Papa!" I roared, angered at the assault on my beloved dwarf uncle. "Stop this!"

 _ **"You are no child of mine."**_ His words stung, _**"And I am not your father. My true family is here, and I am with them forever."**_

I couldn't help but feel very hurt by what I've just heard, but I knew better than to succumb to those taunts. That was Nahr Alma messing with my head, but I won't let him succeed, not while I yet draw breath! "Shut the fuck up!" I hacked at him viciously, parrying each strike and returning a blow of my own at any given chance.

There, at a split second and a very lucky moment, I dealt him a grievous wound that spilled sizzling hot blood across my cheek and all over the floor. The wound had opened from that gash across his chest, where my axe had stuck and remained. I ripped the weapon out savagely and gave back that uppercut he sent my way.

Papa staggered, and he reeled from the blow. Taking advantage of the moment, Leliana put two arrows, one in his stomach and another through his throat.

Papa, in response, convulsed even more violently than before and summoned a stronger surge of power from the Old Chaos. This time, his armor glowed like the newly smelted ingots in a smithy! The heat was more intense than before, and we found ourselves shrinking back from the waves emanating from him. Amata twirled her magical blade and struck the floor, turning the battleground into a frost-flecked zone that grew increasingly cold with each second.

"Any other brighter ideas than that?" I asked over the howl of the winter wind.

"Would you rather die of the heat?" She retorted.

 _ **"Winter cannot help you! I AM THE FLAME, THE BLOOD OF THE EARTH! WINTER FALTERS IN MY PRESENCE!"**_

"Release my Langerd, Dark One!" Leliana snarled, drawing her sword and dueling the Knight of Heide. She was desperate, it showed in the way she fought. I have to admit, I too was becoming desperate. I had no idea except fighting it out, but would it even be called a solution? I'd end up killing my father, and then where will all my efforts go?

"Those flames, they are too strong!" Amata said while striking at Papa with her blade.

Can they actually be put out? Winter falters in your presence, but will that happen if the whole ocean crashes down on you?

My eyes widened as I thought of that gamble. Then, I had an idea.

"Amata, send this whole cathedral into the sea! Can you do it?" I called to the Loycen knight.

She looked at me with incredulity as she imprisoned my father in a fading cocoon of ice. "I-I suppose! Why?"

"The seas of Heide can put it out, I'd wager. If not, it may weaken him!" I threw up my hands, "I don't know! It sounds stupid, but it's all I have now!"

Amata's expression grew determined, and she raises her weapon high as she summoned all the powers of Eleum Loyce to shatter the foundations of the cathedral that she may drive it into the sea below. Papa, however, could not be contained for long, and the flames of the Old Chaos burned ever more stronger as he fought to free himself.

I knew he had to be kept away from Amata at all costs, so I broke into a run and wrestled with my father.

Nothing could compare to the pain I felt as my hands grabbed hold of his arms, where the glowing gold armor touched my skin. What used to be smooth alabaster flesh was soon marred by the intense heat, and I smelled the stench resulting from the contact. I screamed in agony, but never relinquished my hold on him. The pain only served to fuel my rage, and I soon felt that godlike strength return as it had done in the forests of the Hinterlands.

There was a horrible crack as the icy floor, weakened by the powers of winter, shattered completely. Already weathered severely under the influence of the curse of decay, it was easy for Amata to plunge the cathedral into the churning depths of the Heideian Blue. Water doused the both of us with its cold embrace, and I soon found myself spinning within the sea, grappling at the Knight of Heide and refusing to let go. My ears went deaf as the waters seeped into them, blocking out the noise of the whole city caving in with the shattered cathedral.

The heat, for as much as my badly burnt hands and arms could feel, gradually faded into warmth as the seas drank deeply of the Old Chaos' strength. And soon, even my own was sapped and I lost consciousness.

* * *

"Hey."

Someone slapped me gently on the cheeks.

"Riven." Another slap, "Wake up!"

"Whuh..." I coughed and spat the water building up in my lungs. I sat up slowly, the pain in my injured body forcing me to take it easy. I looked up, pleased to see it was the Inquisitor who found me. "What happened? Did we win?"

"You tell me." Beric pointed beside me. There, laying still and unresponsive, was my father!

Steam wafted out from his cooled armor, and the helm was gone, revealing that familiar but aged face beneath it all. I dared to touch him, and earned a stir as he started to come to. I looked around and found to my surprise that we had washed up on a shore far from Heide, close to what looked like a small rundown town.

"Where are the others?" I asked.

Beric shook his head, "You're the only ones I saw since coming to. We must have gotten separated when the cathedral was broken. I wanted to investigate the town, but I didn't want to leave you unattended."

I smiled, "I appreciate your concern. Don't worry, we'll find a way out of this mess. The others are probably fine."

"I hope so. Come on, help me get him up." He moved to drag Papa out of the sand, and I moved to help him. Unfortunately, I was left in intense pain over my burns.

"Ow! Fucking hell!" I hissed, dropping Papa's legs and holding up my hands to see the damage. It was bad, really bad. If I didn't get help soon, those wounds could get infected.

"Here, let me help you." Beric reached into his pockets for a roll of bandages. He then proceeded to wrap it over the burns with as much gentleness as his rough hands could muster.

"Slowly, godsdammit!" I snarled at him, my quick temper flaring up instantly from the resulting agony. Beric threw me this look of disapproval, so I took a moment to recompose myself and closed my eyes. "Sorry. It really hurts, alright? Excuse my harsh words."

"Do you require assistance?" A sad woman's voice inquired from behind us.

Beric and I turned to see a woman clad in fine dark emerald silk, much like Leliana's attire. She was about fresh out of twenty, and had this otherwordly beauty about her that I cannot describe in mortal words, a certain elegance that was beyond comprehension. She beckoned for us to come to the town, "This is Majula. We have prospered over time, and we may have what you need. Come, let us see to your injuries."

Beric and I exchanged glances over the strange woman's words, at this I shrugged. "I can't hurt to try, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah." He replied, finishing up with the bandage so I could help him move my father onto dry land.

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End file.
